


Mobile Suit Gundam Wing: Root://ZERO

by jayla



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Character Development, Eventual Romance, F/M, Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 00:03:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5025856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayla/pseuds/jayla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Relena is kidnapped by a man who claims to be in love with her, who has plans to build an empire in her name. Lady Une is killed in the process, and Heero is gravely injured by two new goons who seem unnaturally strong with quick reflexes. He'll need to rely on others to help him get the Vice Foreign Minister back, and to stop the madman's plot. Meanwhile, the progress on Mars' terraformation goes eerily quiet...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Roots

The ballroom was wide, long, and elegant. Lights shone around the room, sparingly placed but giving the scene of the dancers at its heart a soft glow. The classical music filtered through and served as the background to the soft and pleasant atmosphere. Pillars lined the bordered walls, with the buffet table still laden with food and drinks in between, and the central ceiling rose upwards to reveal an extravagant painting of clouds and happy cherubs.

Relena Darlian leaned against a pillar and watched the various couples dance, listening to the flits of conversation that sometimes drifted her way but –thankfully- never drew her in. Her clothes were simple compared to the dancers, having dressed lightly in dress pants and a top. Her long hair was loose down her back, and her bangs drifting to either side of her face, giving her an impressionable image of her older brother.

Her arms were curled behind her back as she observed the passers-by. She was content to watch the dancers and to take a breather from the stressful day she’d had for the past -oh- five years?

“Relena Peacecraft!” A new voice declared jovially and Ansel Ravenscroft strode towards her.

Relena was surprised out of her stupor, but pleased, and turned a radiant smile to the new arrival.

Ansel was the host of tonight’s affair. His name lent the image of a tall, powerful man, -at least to Relena- but he was in fact no taller than her and slimly built, with a narrow crooked nose. He should have had a well groomed beard of dark brown to match his thick hair, but instead he was clean shaven, soot black hair with ashy streaks lining his temples pulled back into a tight ponytail. He could have passed for early forties, but his laughter lines and crow’s feetplaced him in his mid-fifties. He was the head CEO of a Space Mining corporation that was a major competitor for Quatre’s business, and in Relena’s line of work with the Mars Terraformation Project he was a regular acquaintance. His insistence on referring to her as _Peacecraft_ –despite her requests not to- irked her somewhat, but he was cheerful company.

Despite that, there was still something... peculiar about him. There was something off about him that she couldn’t quite place.

“It’s _Darlian_ , Ansel,” she said, pointedly but kindly.

Ansel’s face was warm and he was beaming. “I know my dear, but I can’t help but remember roots. They’re important.” He held two full champagne glasses in each white gloved hand, his suit elaborate and royal, and he _tink’d_ a glass against the other before handing it to her, and took a sip from his drink.

“I agree, but it’s also important to remember where you’re going,” she said, repeating his motion and sipping her own champagne. A pleasant buzz spread through her immediately.

“Quite,” he said, and she had the impression that he didn’t understand. “I was chatting to dear Elizabeth Fletcher and her husband when I noticed you all alone here; I hope you are enjoying yourself?”

Relena smiled warmly at him. “I am,” she said honestly.

“Well, you deserve it,” he said warmly, and gestured to the room at large. “This night is your night! Five years of total peace!”

Relena smiled wanly and looked out at the dancing couples swaying to the classical music. Calm stole over her. The chandeliers were twisting gently and glittered, cascading everyone in diamonds

“May I have this dance?” Ansel asked with a sudden seriousness that surprised her.

“Of course,” she said before she was promptly whisked away. Their still mostly full glasses were deposited to a passing waiter, and before she knew it she was in the midst of the dancers, her arms and hands positioned swiftly to match those around her, and in moments they were dancing in time with the others.

Several songs seemed to drift passed quickly when a bizarre sensation passed over Relena, and she suddenly felt claustrophobic, despite having a large space between her and any other dancer. She wanted to look around, to see the doors and the windows, but all she could see was the smiling and dazed laughing faces of the oblivious and ignorant politicians and dignitaries.

Ansel seemed to sense her distress. “Are you alright, my dear?”

Relena forced herself to calm down, she was overreacting, but the dancers seemed to grow, as was Ansel. Wasn’t he nearly the same height as her? Why did he seem to tower over her now?

“Ansel?” She said, and although she was sure they had stopped dancing she felt as though she was still spinning. Multiple Ansel’s frowned at her, spoke to her in echoing voices, but they overlapped and she couldn’t discern their meaning.

He was making hushing sounds, soothing noises, and he hugged her close. He was hugging her? That was odd. She wanted to pull away, she willed her arms to move but they remained slack by her sides, beneath Ansel’s own.

Ansel’s arms left her, and his hands cupped her face instead, tipping her head back. Her eyes met the chandeliers and the twinkling images they displayed before seemed to multiply by the thousands, almost blindingly, but they were so beautiful. The cherubs and clouds above them moved, the cherubs played hide and seek behind the clouds that laughed and played tricks.

Her ears felt as though they had been padded with cotton wool, but his mouth was close to her ear when he said, “Relax; you’re disturbing the other dancers.”

And she did. She felt her muscles loosen and her eyelids lower to slits.

“I have a little gift for you, my dear. Would you like a gift?” He said.

She felt herself nodding. Yes, why not? Who wouldn’t love a gift right now, with this pleasant sensation coursing through her bloodstream and the beautiful, pretty lights?

There was a loud ringing sound as Ansel clapped his hands together, the noise echoing. There was then, suddenly, a lot of noise, a lot of activity, a lot of jostling. Someone bumped into Relena and she stumbled forward into Ansel’s ready arms once more. Distantly she heard screams.

He soothed his fingers through her hair as she fell into darkness.

* * *

Relena awoke to the painful sensation in her calf muscles, the ache of having been on her knees and the blood’s circulation being cut off for far too long.

She opened her eyes, cracked them open, and Lady Une was before her. Bound, gagged, wide eyed and lying on her side, she could almost see herself gasping reflected in Lady Une’s eyes and fall backwards in the shock.

“Lady?” Relena said, surprised by her slurred tone, by the cottony sensation that was her mind, but she was clearing up as the seconds passed.

Lady Une was trying to say something, to speak around whatever had been forced in her mouth and duct-taped over it, her jaw stretched as wide as it would go. Her nostrils flared with the effort to breathe.

Relena looked up.

Ansel stood before her and Lady Une, and his face was transformed. It was as though a mask had fallen away to reveal his true identity. The lines around his eyes and mouth were different, harsher, as though the man had never smiled in his life, as though he spent his days glaring down his crooked nose at everyone around him. He smiled a smile that failed to reach his cold eyes, which Relena would have sworn were blue but now seemed grey.

She tried to move her arms, to reach out for Lady Une, but they were stuck behind her back. She was bound too. She looked around quickly, and all of the politicians, the dignitaries, their spouses and partners. They were all bound and gagged as Lady Une was. Some were unconscious, slack faces as though asleep, but most were awake, and the fear was strong.

There were others around the room that stood freely, aiming rifles at the defenceless on the floor. Many she recognised as the security detail that Ansel had hired to patrol the building, to protect the partygoers within. They looked cold and ruthless; she would find no friend among them.

“Relena Peacecraft,” Ansel declared largely.

Relena looked into the Lady’s wide eyes. “It’s going to be okay,” she murmured.

The Lady nodded and grunted, and she turned her face to glare at Ansel. Relena faced him as well, her brow knitting together into a frown, feeling an anger that was unusual for her. Her hands clenched behind her back into fists.

Ansel was holding a decorative pistol delicately in his hands, sighting along it with a careful eye. “Relena, my dear, I’m a little hurt you passed out before I could properly present your gift,” he said. “We’ve all been waiting rather patiently.”

“How very rude of me,” she said, the sarcasm naked in her tone, knowing it was reckless and not caring.

“Yes,” he said. “But no matter, you’re awake now, so we can begin.”

He nodded to two of the mercenaries who weren’t holding any weapons and they rushed forward. They grabbed at Lady Une and hoisted her upright, and in the light Relena could see how bruised and battered she looked, how roughly she had been bound. The others around her, and by the feel of it, Relena herself, had been bound by plastic straps trapping their legs and arms together. But clearly they hadn’t been enough to bind Commander Une of the Preventers. More duct tape had been crudely wrapped in multiple layers around her legs and arms, her hands purple where they were strapped too tightly.

It was then that Relena could see Lady Une was still in her pyjamas. She had been home when she was taken.

“Why, what are you doing?” Relena said, feeling an inevitability crashing forward at a startling pace and feeling powerless to stop it. She tried to stand up but her legs wouldn’t gather beneath her, her arms were useless behind her back.

“You’ll enjoy this-“

“No, don’t-“

She tried to leap forward but was grabbed harshly by one of the security guards, who gripped her by the shoulder and pulled her back.

“-Really, you’ll thank me-“

He swung the pistol around, thumbing back the safety.

“This is my gift-“

He aimed, sighting along it for Lady Une.

“-No!“

Relena struggled and twisted against the guard who held her.

“-to you-”

Lady Une stared defiantly at Ansel as she was held upright by the two guards, anger in every line of her face.

“Ansel, NO!”

“Please accept it.”

The gunshot was loud. It echoed throughout the ballroom. People cried out, flinching against the sound. It rattled in Relena’s ears and the ringing that followed deafened her to her own scream.

Lady Une collapsed to her knees in a spray of blood as the mercenaries released her and stepped backwards. The spatter reached Relena, hitting her clothes and her face. She could taste the copper on her tongue, but she didn’t notice it. Lady Une fell to her side and curled into a foetal position as blood oozed from her stomach, spreading in a wide puddle before her. Blood oozed from gaps in the duct tape around her mouth.

Her eyes were wide and unblinking.

At a command from Ansel, the mercenary restraining Relena left her for a moment and, with a _flick_ , produced a pocket knife and cut the bonds that held her arms together. Relena reached down for Lady Une, her hands shaking as the pool of blood streamed on top of the marble flooring and reached her legs, soaking her legs quickly.

Somewhere, deep inside the part of Relena that was still rational wondered how there was so much blood despite how quick her death seemed. It must have hit a main artery…

She was unaware of the strangled noises issuing from her throat or the tears that ran through the blood on her cheeks and dripped off her jaw line as she reached down for Lady Une and pressed her forehead against her face, willing to feel a breath of life.

But there was none.

A light had left Lady Une’s eyes, and somehow she was no longer Lady Une. She was just a body.

“You don’t seem happy, Relena,” Ansel’s voice said a thousand miles away.

This struck a nerve, cut deep into her and the rage that bubbled in her chest felt like a physical force that would erupt at any moment. But that rational part of her realised how dangerous Ansel was, how unpredictable he was, and held the rest of her back. She looked up at Ansel, and the genuine confusion on his face was possibly the most enraging part of the entire scenario thus far.

“Lady Une was my friend,” she said carefully, controlling her words and her tone through gritted teeth as much as she could, but she failed and cried out, “ _What made you think I would want this?!_ ”

The hall echoed her yell back at her.

“Roots, my dear, remember your roots,” he said, incredulous that she didn’t understand. “I know what she did to your adoptive father, I know she killed him. I even know how you sought after her for a short while afterwards. The revenge cycle is complete; I did it for you without you having to bloody your hands.”

Relena looked down at her trembling hands. “They’re plenty bloody now,” she whimpered under her breath, but said louder, “But you didn’t answer me, why?”

Ansel seemed nervous for the first time since she had known him and he said, stiffly, “I love you, Relena Peacecraft. I love you, and this is my gift to you.”

The ice that speared her heart and cooled her rage was instant. Her stomach plummeted as he fell to his knees before her and grabbed for her hands, cupping them in his with Lady Une between them. His expression was, now that he’d made his declaration, wild and desperate.

“I love you,” he repeated over and over, and bile rose in her throat as he kissed her bloodied hands wetly, as Lady Une’s blood smeared onto his thin lips.

He looked up suddenly, his eyes watery, and her disgust must have been obviously drawn on her face because his own features changed in an instant. “What?!” He said, suddenly infuriated. “What! Is this not good enough for you?!”

He stood, and gestured to the room at large. “Do I need to kill everybody?!” He said, and the hostages wailed and cried protests. He ignored them and began to pace, gesticulating wildly with his hands. “I shouldn’t have opened with this bitch, I should have done the small ones first and then-“ he cried out in frustration and grabbed at his own hair, “- _will you bitches ever be satisfied?!_ ”

As suddenly as this outburst occurred, he coughed in the back of his throat, smoothed down his hair, and straightened his lapels. He breathed deeply. “You just need time, that’s all. They all do,” he said, as much to himself as to her.

He strode forward and, with a strength that was surprising considering his build, hoisted Relena upright into a standing position in one swift movement. He looked at her squarely, and so closely she could see the madness that was now loose, the one that lurked behind his eyes that he hid so well, that the only hint it existed at all was the slight instinctual sensation in your gut that told you this man was _wrong_.

Ansel took a deep breath, and held out his hand for Relena. “Are you going to behave?” He said, and the five lettered sentence held so many connotations she was entirely certain there was only one correct answer, one safe response that wouldn’t result in him raising his pistol and blowing her away in an instant.

She wasn’t afraid to die for a cause, but this was different.

“Yes,” she said, despising the word. _For now_ , the rational side of her thought.

His composition changed instantly, another transformation; a regression back to the face she knew before. He smiled widely, his lips spreading over his teeth, and offered his arm for her to link with him. Refusing to look down at Lady Une in case her resolve broke, she linked her arm with his, and he swept away, heading toward a door she hadn’t even considered at the beginning of the night at the opposite end of the ballroom. A clear path was forced by the mercenaries as they pushed and shoved the still bound out of the way. Ansel walked passed them all, passed their pleading glances and desperate faces, as though they weren’t even there.

“What are you going to do with them?” Relena asked, afraid for the answer.

“Hmm, what would you rather I do?” He said, smiling at her.

“Let them go,” she said.

His grin grew wider still. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page,” he said, and she knew within an instant they weren’t.

They reached the farthest door, and Ansel gently unlinked them to open the door and beckon her through. Once she stepped out, Ansel closed the door behind her with a _click_.

And then the orchestra of gunfire reigned in the ballroom.

Despite the wall separating them from the ballroom, the sound was still deafeningly loud as it echoed in the huge space, and the abrupt cries of fear, shock, pain, were silenced quickly. When the sound settled, Relena barely had a moment to gather her wits once more when another round of fire rocked her senses.

A rush of emotion flooded Relena; sorrow, regret, fear.

But something else coursed through her now; adrenaline. Her heart pumped loudly in her ears, increasing quickly, drowning out all other sound. The last of whatever drug Ansel had given her in the champagne was rushed out of her system, and her mind felt the clearest it had ever felt before.

Her extremities felt electrified. It was a choice of fight or flight, and Relena wasn't in the situation to fight. If she didn't take advantage of the adrenaline now she was never going to escape.

Time seemed to have slowed down; somehow Ansel was turning to face her, a blissful expression on his face, in slow motion, and Relena knew she what she could do before he would even notice.

She rammed her shoulder against him and he went sprawling, his pistol flying out of his hand and spinning down the corridor, his cry of shock and rage echoing in her ears.

Then, she turned to the opposite corridor and bolted. She ran as hard as her legs would pump, turning down random corridors, looking for a likely exit. She passed closed doors in a blur, registering only what could be useful. Ansel called her name behind her, but the sound was muted to her own breathing in her ears.

 _Get out, get help. Please, please don't let them all die_ , she prayed over and over.

The green flashing icon showing _Fire Exit_ jumped out at her from the corner of her eye and she hurried down turns as the directions led her, almost falling in her effort to turn suddenly.

She only registered the swords just in time as she almost impaled herself on the twin blades. She slid to a stop, falling backwards. The decorative blades, with a rounded, decorative handguard, were clutched in the grips of two people.

The one to the left was obviously male; tall and muscled, he towered over Relena and his companion. He wore a thick but form fitting, pale yellow space suit, it was elaborately decorated with swirling sun patterns on stripes that started from the collarbone, and ended at the end of the thick-soled boots. The helmet was mostly reinforced glass, tinted black so she couldn't see identify the person within it, whilst the sides and back were pale yellow, matching the suit. It looked more like a motorcycle helmet than a spacesuit’s.

His companion was female, shorter than him but taller than Relena and slender, with a matching suit and helmet, although hers was a deep, deep blue, almost black, and stripes contained crescent moons.

They held the rapiers in each hand, and they pointed at her unwavering. They were no doubt quicker than Relena, and either one could cut her to ribbons in an instant. Rapiers were only really good for poking with, but they could still jab a hole into her.

While they looked impressive, and frightening, there was something peculiar about seeing them standing in the hallways of a functional building. There were no space ports that she knew of nearby, so why were they wearing space suits?

Relena stood quickly and instinctively took a step back from the blades. In perfect unison, the space-suited pair took a step forward so the blades stayed by her. Relena stopped moving, she was trapped.

“Let me pass,” she said.

The pair had no response for her; neither did they move an inch. Ansel’s thudding footfalls and laboured breathing soon joined them, and Relena turned with dread to face him, ignoring the two behind her. He was panting, despite how Relena hadn’t been able to run far. His skin was a mottled mixture of flushing red and pale white, and a thin sheen of sweat sat on his face. He straightened up, smoothing his hair back where it had come apart from his ponytail, and she noticed he’d retrieved his pistol once more.

“Thank you Sol, Luna,” he said, nodding to his companions. Then, he turned a face like thunder to Relena.

“You _witch_ ,” he hissed. “I prepared _all_ of this for you; months of planning, months of execution, to make this. Evening. _Perfect._ ” He punctuated each word with a swipe of his pistol, it whistled in the air as it passed. “And you couldn’t behave.”

He strode forward slowly and deliberately, and Relena’s stumble backwards wasn’t fast enough. Her vision flashed white and black and red as he struck her along the temple with the butt of the pistol. The _thunk_ it made against her registered briefly before the dull pain echoed through her face. She fell to the floor, and had only a moment to shield her face with her arms before the heavy, ornate pistol came down again. The brutal agony that reigned on her as he struck her wherever he could reach was numbing, and the dizziness that followed despite how she protected her head threatened unconsciousness. Despite this, she gritted her teeth, bit her lip and cut it to stop herself from crying. She would not scream, she would _not_ cry. He would _not_ beat her.

Just as suddenly as the attacks had begun, they stopped. Ansel’s grunts of exertion ceased, and Relena cracked her eyes open wearily to see why. Ansel’s arm was raised -his stance ready to deliver yet another blow- but the yellow garbed man who had stood impassively with the woman now had a hand gripped firmly on Ansel’s wrist. Something clicked in his helmet, and the slightly distorted radio spoke through.

“That’s enough,” he said. His voice was deeper than anything a human could produce without trying, and Relena felt a wave of gratitude toward him, for a moment.

“Sol?” Ansel said, blinking up at his companion. He looked around, confused, and then his eyes fell on Relena. The effect was immediate, tears sprung into his eyes and his face drained of its blotchy-red complexion, becoming pale.

“Oh... Oh... Relena, my poor Relena,” he lamented, and she would hate herself later at the memory of cringing away from him as he kneeled on the floor before her, clutching her. “Oh, what happened, my dear, why?” He said, his tears dripped on her face and she was paralyzed by it.

All the fight that had been in her a moment ago had left her entirely; she was completely subdued by his sudden attack. She couldn't move. Her mind screamed at her to push him away, to run far away from him but her body refused to move, even when Ansel planted a wet kiss on her forehead. Relena felt a black hole of despair in her subconscious, and she could feel herself sliding into it with no will to save herself.

"Relena!"

A voice she recognized.

Ansel glanced up in surprise, and Relena could see him. Heero was pelting as fast as he could towards them, calculated anger across his features. A handgun was clutched in his right hand, held slightly away from his body.

He slid to a stop when he reached them, aiming at Ansel.

“Move, now,” he said coldly, and Relena felt a flicker of hope.

 _Shoot him, just shoot him,_ she thought, but still couldn’t move her lips to say it.

“What is _this_?!” Ansel said, glaring and hugging Relena closer.

Relena had a second to see Heero lower his aim slightly before the corridor flashed white and the gunshot echoed. These days, modern guns weren’t as loud as they were in ages past - certainly not as loud as the gun Ansel fired earlier - but the shot still made her ears ring. The bullet buried itself in the carpet before them, a faint smoke rising where it had landed.

“Move,” Heero growled, and Relena could hear the fury that laced the singular word.

Suddenly, Sol and Luna shot out from either side of Ansel and Relena, and darted forward with surprising agility toward Heero, blades gleaming in the light. The corridor was narrow, meaning they didn’t have a lot of swing room, but they still managed to jab at Heero before he could loose another round, forcing him to dodge backward. He brought his handgun down on Luna’s wrist, who was closer, and with an audible grunt she dropped her blade. Heero twisted his arm round and drove his knee into her helmet as she fell, knocking her sideways.

Heero turned to face Sol, who tried to swing his sword but it dragged against a wall, and Heero spun, bending his arm and driving his elbow into Sol's stomach. Sol grunted but stayed upright and brought the handle of the rapier down against Heero’s hand, and he dropped the gun, but Heero swung out a leg and kicked at Sol, landing another hit in his stomach. This time Sol went down, clutching his stomach.

Heero spun again so he was facing Ansel and Relena, scooped up his fallen gun, and ran toward them. Ansel gave a frightened squeal and raised his pistol and fired once, twice, three times. More. However, even in the close distance the shots went wild. The gunfire at such a close range finally brought Relena back to her senses, and she shoved Ansel away. She stood quickly and reached out for Heero, who grabbed her wrist firmly and darted further down the corridor, before turning quickly, twisting and facing down the corridor toward the three antagonists.

Luna slid to a stop several feet away from them as Heero aimed the gun at her. She was poised in a half-crouch; ready to pounce the moment Heero showed any sign of distraction. Sol was helping Ansel upright behind her.

“Can you kill us all in one shot?” Luna’s voice called in an eerily calm voice.

“I have a good aim,” he growled.

“Good enough?” Luna said, tilting her head.

Heero kept the gun aimed as he retorted, “The police are on their way. Can you kill me and get away with Relena before they arrive?”

“ _Bastard_!” Ansel cried suddenly. “Let them come! I’ll kill you, _I’ll kill them all!_ ” His face was insane, the white of his eyes showed all around, his iris’ small and his pupils pinpoints. He was fighting against Sol, firing the pistol wildly, but there were only clicks from the empty gun as the taller man easily held him back.

Sol was silently regarding Heero. Despite how the face beneath the glass was invisible to them, there was a sensation that told her he was looking at him. For a moment nothing more was said, silent all but for Ansel’s struggling, and Heero, still aiming at Luna, applied the slightest pressure to the trigger...

Then Luna said, “They’re coming.”

Sol acted quickly. He raised his arm and drove his elbow into the back of Ansel’s head. The struggling face became slack immediately, and he fell unconscious. As he fell forward, Sol lifted up his master in a swift movement and heaved his prone body over a broad shoulder.

Luna had gathered the swords in that time, and the two turned and ran. Heero fired two rounds, the hall flashing white, but the pair were insanely fast and the shots missed.

In seconds, they were alone in the corridor.

Relena had a moment of respite before Heero was turned to face her, his hands on her face and turning it this way, that way, his eyes intent on the bruises that had formed quickly, on the swelling that made it hard to see out of her left eye.

“I’m okay, Heero-“ she started saying, but he was speaking.

“Did he break anything?” He asked.

A flash in her mind flared and for a second she was seeing Lady Une being shot to death in the ballroom, and then it was gone.

“I don’t think so, it just hurts,” she said, quietly.

His eyes flickered between hers for a moment, his face unreadable as always. But he nodded and stepped back, turning to move down the corridor away from where Sol, Luna and Ansel had fled, toward the fire exit. They reached it quickly and Heero pushed at the bar to unlock it, but it remained locked and refused to budge. He frowned at it for a moment, but then sighed heavily and turned to face Relena. His expression had hardened into one of calculated determination.

“We’ll have to go back,” he said.

Dread and sorrow settled into her heart. She knew what it meant; back to Une, back to all those people. They were on the second floor of the building, too high up to go through the windows, and the fire exit was the only means of getting out without going through the ballroom. Relena wondered if the fire exit had been blocked in case anyone did escape…

"Heero, we have to see if anyone's survived," she said, looking up at him imploringly, clutching her hands at her chest, but he was shaking his head.

"They were executed; all of them. No one survived," he said.

Relena looked away, letting her hands fall away and clenching her hands into fists at her side, trying to contain her emotions.

"Can you handle it?" He asked, not unkindly.

"I'll be fine," she said. Her voice was hollow even to her, she couldn't mask it. It would be a long time before she would be _fine_ with what happened tonight, if ever.

He stared at her for a moment longer, reading her to see if she _could_ handle it. “Alright,” he said, his voice soft, although his jaw was tight.

They hurried back the way they came. Relena didn't recognize the area, as when she had been fleeing she turned and ran blindly, going only for distance rather than direction, but it didn't take long for the corridors to begin to look familiar as a horrendous stench entered Relena's nose.

The door to the ballroom had been left open and the sight inside was a devastating mess.

"Oh God..." She breathed.

The bodies of the politicians an hour ago Relena had been celebrating with littered the floor where they had been forced to kneel down, and no one was spared. A pang of sorrow hit her once again as she gazed into the faces of those she was an acquaintance with, and with a few she had called friends. Among the bodies, the security detail Ansel had hired were scattered roughly where they had stood as well. Their weapons lay discarded beside them.

When the men had finished executing their hostages, they had committed suicide. All of them. Relena's fear and hatred for Ansel grew. What could the man have done to convince these people to shoot themselves after killing hostages?

The smell ravaged Relena's senses, it was almost overpowering. The coppery scent of blood, of raw meat, was fresh and thick in the air. Upon death some of the deceased had excavated their bowels and bladders, a detail that wasn’t uncommon yet she wished with a heavy heart she’d remained ignorant of. She felt with a twisted sense of gladness that Lady Une had been spared the same humiliation.

Relena kept close to Heero, breathing through her mouth so she didn't have to breathe through her nose, although it did little to stop the overwhelming smell. Her hands covering her mouth as she took care not to stand in anything or on anyone. The walk seemed to take hours; the ballroom seemed to have grown longer, there seemed to be more people than there was before, and she couldn’t help but take in the faces of those who lay on the floor despite how she tried not to.

When they finally left the ballroom, when Heero let her out first and he turned to close the door behind them, Relena stumbled a little way further down the corridor, her head spinning. She managed to get her hair pulled away from her face before she threw up for the first time. She hadn’t had a lot to eat or drink, but somehow she managed to vomit two more times, her stomach heaving with the effort to vomit again with nothing more to bring up. Heero had moved further down the corridor, checking the stairs, although she thought this was to give Relena her space. She was grateful.

Maybe, in however many months or years down the line, she’d know she was okay when she’d feel embarrassed about throwing up in front of Heero, heaving and moaning like a cow giving birth. But for now she could only feel a heavy weight in her chest.

Heero came back to her after a few minutes of when she’d moved away and concentrated on breathing deeply with her hands on her knees.

“Are you alright?” He asked, his voice firm but not unkind. She knew he was eager to get away.

She nodded. “He can’t get away with this, Heero,” she said as she looked up at him, her voice slightly husky.

Heero paused, and turned to face her squarely, "They won't," he promised, staring right into her eyes as he spoke to convey his seriousness. "But my main concern is getting you out of here."

Relena held his gaze for a moment, but sighed and looked away. "I trust you," she said. "But I don't like this."

In her peripheral vision she saw Heero look past her. "I don’t either," he said simply. "We need to hurry. I'm trusting in their common sense that they'll have left but I don't know Ansel, he may still pursue us."

He turned at once and Relena followed. They sped forward, almost running down the stairs and along corridors. Several minutes later, they reached the front doors to the great building without contest. Heero paused in front of one; there were no windows he could look through to see if anyone was waiting for them. He placed his hand on the door knob whilst taking out the handgun. Relena stood close to him, ready to run when he did. Heero glanced at her once, she nodded her readiness, and he threw his weight against the door.

Heero let the door swing open, he swept his gun wide, but neither Ansel nor his strange companions were waiting for them outside. Relena stood by his side, looking for anything unusual as he did.

It was winter, and though it was after six the sun had long settled over the horizon, giving way to the thick clouds that hid the stars and leaving them with only the street lamps to see by. A heavy snow had fallen the night previously, seemingly covering the world in white. The cold bit into Relena almost immediately. Footsteps disturbed the snow; scores of them had trampled through the four inch thick snow carpet, all of them heading to or from the front door.

Two police cars had parked haphazardly in the street, and the bodies of four policemen lay scattered in front of their vehicles, blood staining the snow around them.

Heero kept his gun raised and descended the wide and shallow stone steps slowly, lightly crunching the snow beneath his boots. Relena followed, grim fascination not allowing her to tear her gaze away from the dead policemen.

"This must be the response unit," she said quietly, her voice cracked in the effort against her dry throat. Heero nodded his agreement, his eyes seeking every corner or shadow.

They silently passed the first policeman and Relena noted the deep slash that began at the collarbone and twisted to his other hip. It had torn through his bulletproof vest and clothing beneath. How could a _rapier_ do that? They should have bent and snapped before cutting through the padded armour. How?

The blood was fresh and shiny on the snow, still seeping through. They couldn't have been killed any longer than a few moments ago. Relena wondered vaguely which of Ansel's companions had cut this man down as Heero knelt for a moment beside him long enough to check for a pulse.

"They were killed as soon as they arrived," Relena said distractedly, speaking mostly to herself. Heero was moving around to the other bodies and checking for any signs of life, this turned up in vain too.

An overwhelming sense of responsibility crashed into Relena, and along with the pain where Ansel had struck her caused her knees to buckle. She sat beside the first policeman, not caring about the snow that chilled her body further, her head on her knees as she murmured a prayer for forgiveness to the victims.

Ansel had come for her, for whatever reason, and so many people had died in one night because of her. Maybe if she had decided to stay at home instead of attending the party, Ansel would have noted her absence and either given up the plan for another day or sought her at her house, where she was alone.

Ansel may have pulled the trigger on Lady Une, he may have forced those men to assassinate those politicians and then turn the gun on themselves, his companions may have cut these men to death on his orders, but it was all done to capture her. She was as much responsible for the deaths of these people as surely if she were in Ansel's shoes.

Heero stood away from her. She couldn’t see him with her head on her knees, but he watched her with a helpless expression.


	2. Plastic Snow

It was some time later.

With a lack of response from the first unit, the police had sent a S.W.A.T Unit. They arrived, thick with numbers, converging around Heero and Relena quickly and aiming their rifles at the pair, shouting for hands raised and weapons dropped. Relena had been confused for a moment when she realized Heero still had his handgun.

Relena reacted then, standing and putting on the persona she did when she stood before a podium and hundreds of eyes on her. She declared who she was, and the voice of authority had an immediate effect that Heero was unsure whether they’d recognised her as the Vice Foreign Minister or the voice made them hesitate. Regardless, they listened as she announced Heero as her bodyguard, and of the situation within the massive building behind them.

They moved quickly, taking the building from floor-to-floor, taking longer than Relena thought appropriate to finally start dealing with the dead. Paramedics arrived, and at last the dead were brought out in black bags. Relena wondered vaguely which one Lady Une was in.

As Heero and Relena stood to one side, the pair was interviewed by the two lead investigators. Relena was asked to go over what had happened several times. They were especially interested in the fact that it was herAnsel wanted, and told her to repeat everything he said. At times, as she deflated from the events, when she got a particular quote wrong or slightly mixed up, they would turn suspicious, as pressing her as though she were lying.

They were relentless, and blunt, and callous.

Finally, when Relena thought she was about to snap, Heero stepped forward. He had been mostly silent throughout the interview, watching and listening to her carefully with his arms folded across his chest.

He said, “That’s enough,". The officers turned as though to say something to him, but they soon left without another word. It was amazing the affect Heero could have on people with a simple glare. He could impose himself on anyone simply by looking at them through his long bangs, by filling their senses and turning everything to black until there was just his eyes. He could make himself bigger than he was. It took a stronger person than most to withstand the intensity.

A paramedic attended to her now as she sat at the back of an ambulance, watching the solemn progression of officers and paramedics carting the dead into the vehicles. Though most of the ambulances were angled away from her view, she could see they put more bodies than the ambulance could possibly take without stacking them on top of one another.

A million miles away, her rationality could understand the necessity, but she still thought it cold.

Was Lady Une trapped beneath a pile of bodies? She suddenly had a vision of Lady Une still alive, struggling in a black bag, trying to move the heavy bodies from above her. Gasping, clawing, until finally the oxygen ran out and she ceased moving.

She dragged herself out of her thoughts, taking in her surroundings. The paramedic had been speaking to her, but she hadn’t heard him. “What?” She asked.

“I said there’s nothing more I can do now. The swelling and bruises will go down on their own, but keep that ice pack over your eye for a while. I can give you some painkillers if you want?” He said. Relena hadn’t even noticed he’d handed her an ice pack or that she’d pressed it against her swollen face.

Relena shook her head. “No, no I’m fine,” she said, shrugging off the blanket he’d given her and standing. “I’d like to go home now.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to go to the station, miss, for your safety until we can contact the Preventers. I’ll get an officer to take you there,” the medic said, and started turning away.

The thought of being interrogated by more officers, even Preventers, was more than she could handle. “Please, I just want to go home,” she said, quietly, although the paramedic had already gone and didn’t hear her.

Heero, who had been stood beside her the whole time, watching silently, stepped forward and put a hand to the medic’s shoulder. “I can take her there,” he said.

The medic looked as though he wanted to argue, but when Heero glared at him, he quickly said, “I’ll go tell the lead investigator you’re going then,” and scuttled off.

Relena smiled gratefully at Heero. He didn’t acknowledge it as he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

The pair set off down the road, Relena’s progress halted by the snow that blanketed the district. The cold was biting even with the lack of wind, and left her shivering despite Heero’s warm jacket around her. She was acutely aware of the blood pumping through her veins, particularly by her temple, where pain thrummed with her pulse.

The streets were clear, thankfully. As it was this close to Christmas the people who worked in the area had either finished early or taken holiday. In any case no one hung around the business section of the town Relena had called home for the past year and a half. The lights in the nearby buildings were off; aside from the conference building Ansel had used to host his _party_.

The heavy weight of silence pressed in all around, not even the slightest whisper of a breeze floated past and the fresh snow fell with equal quiet, and the only evidence that Relena hadn’t been rendered deaf was the steady crunch of the snow beneath her and Heero’s footsteps. Heero kept a steady pace beside her, seemingly feeling no discomfort from the cold despite the loss of his jacket and the handgun still gripped in his right hand. His eyes sought every corner or darkened area for signs of danger.

They walked on for some time before Relena stopped. Heero turned to face her, his head tilted slightly.

Relena hesitated before speaking, feeling vulnerable. “Can… can you take me home instead?” She asked quietly, barely audible to herself but she knew her voice carried to him. “If I have to recount what happened tonight again… I…”

She trailed off, looking at the ground and hugging his jacket closer to her. Heero watched her for a while, the seconds stretching. She fully expected him to deny her; to say it was too dangerous for her to go home while Ansel was still out there. She knew it was hopeless before she asked, but she was on the edge. She would be prepared to argue with him all the way to the Preventers, but they would go all the same…

He put his hands on his hips and sighed. “Alright,” he said, not unkindly, but with an impatience of one who was going against his better judgement. “I’ll take you home; you can freshen up and get some rest. But _then_ we’re going to the Preventers.”

She smiled at him again, her eyes shining. “Thank you,” she said.

She looked forward to returning home. With the ESUN and Preventer Headquarters located in Brussels nearby, it was not uncommon for officials like Relena to settle down close to work in the small towns that surrounded the main city. Many a time an important meeting concerning ESUN, Preventer, the Mars Terraformation Project or rarely Relena’s usual duties as Vice Foreign Minister took place in those pocket towns where those involved –or at least the majority- actually lived. Home-visits were often short, but it generally meant she got to sleep in her own bed more often than not.

She found her thoughts drifting back to before Ansel’s sudden change. She had felt free and slightly careless; the party invitation sprung on her in surprise the night before and -finding her schedule free for that evening- had accepted. She had danced and talked to those with whom she had gotten to know; most by acquaintance and few by genuine friendship during her time as Vice Foreign Minister. It had been, from the moment she had stepped into the ballroom, a _real_ party and not a political event aiming to win her attention for one scheme or another. Or so it had seemed.

Ansel had been the perfect host. He was the lead CEO of his mining company and, during business visits; he had presented himself as cunning and full of plots even then, despite his colourful and friendly persona at parties. She remembered now, how she hadn’t trusted him at all upon their first meeting.

So why, with a pleasant atmosphere, did Relena suddenly forget about her first impression of Ansel, of her guttural instinct warning her against him? With a sinking sensation in her stomach, Relena realized why her feeling of responsibility for the entire event began and persisted as a weight in her heart.

She hadn’t trusted Ansel. Somewhere in the back of her mind she had known, perhaps not his full intentions, but that something was _wrong_ with him. And yet she had accepted his party invitation. Ansel’s peculiar feelings for her were undeniable, if she had declined his invitation she had no doubt he would have cancelled the entire affair. He may have sought after her when she was alone, or, possibly, given up his pursuits entirely. Lives could have been spared.

Why did she accept his invitation? She wasn’t usually so careless. She had always followed her instincts before. She _lived_ by them. Even when she didn’t understand why at that moment, the knowledge would always come later and, more often than not, she would have been right.

Relena had worked almost solidly since the Barton Incident, since the Eve War even. Immediately following the War the Mars Terraformation Project had begun, and Relena was the spearhead for its beginning. She was in charge of getting people and companies interested and involved, so much had to be done that Relena was hardly left any time for her regular duties. Her work days had been punctuated only to eat and sleep, and even then not consistently. Personal time was a rare luxury.

But it had been important, hadn’t it? A place where Earthlings and Colonists could mingle on neutral grounds, it was the first step towards building a peace that would last longer than the lifetimes of this generation. Relena was truly well aware of the brief memory of humanity, the Barton Incident opened her eyes to that, and did not count on the peace lasting longer than a few generations, if that. Mar’s Terraformation was to ensure it lasted longer. Wars would always crop up, it was in humanity’s nature, but wars that could devastate human existence such as one between Earth and the Colonies could at least be prevented.

But then, when the Terraformation Project had learned to walk on its own, there were other projects. There was always more work.

And so when Relena had received the party invitation, when she found she had a free evening for the first time in a long time, with the weight of her responsibilities suffocating her, she had forgotten her instincts. Ansel Ravencroft was just another name in an entire string of names she heard in her daily life, and she hadn’t thought of it further than that. And because of this unforgivable lapse, so many had died.

Relena realized she had stopped walking. Snowflakes settled and melted on her shoulders and in her hair and went ignored.

“Relena,” Heero said, and while he had spoken softly, the break in the silence was like a sudden gunshot in the darkness.

Relena looked up from where her gaze was settled on the ground before her into Heero’s. His eyes flickered between hers, reading her. “Fight it,” he said after a moment, and Relena wondered –not for the first time- how Heero had dissected her thoughts so easily.

Vulnerability surrounded Relena, and her eyes stung as tears drew close. “I... It’s hard,” she said.

“I know, but you’re strong,” he said.

With her name called softly in the darkness, a quick distraction, she gathered her emotions again. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply through her nostrils and exhaled just as deeply. The anxiety and sense of hopelessness that almost consumed her again fled. When she opened her eyes again, she nodded to Heero, who gave a nod in return and resumed walking again. Relena followed in step beside him.

The walk to Relena’s home was not a long one, however in the cold it felt longer. Home was a small, two-story, detached, old white house with grey roofing that appeared off-white in confliction with the snow, in a lane of houses sharing its exact description. It sat on top of a wide, sloping hill, and offered an amazing view of the rest of the rather picturesque town, and the countryside beyond it. In the far distance on a clear night; the lights from the neighbouring city could be seen glowing and twinkling like Earth-bound stars, the Preventers tower in the centre.

Her neighbour’s lights were off as she walked along the lane, stepping in the areas where the snow had already been trodden on to spare her frozen feet, and Relena was thankful for her luck thus far. She hurried to her door, overtaking Heero, looking forward to seeing Bernard.

For a moment, Relena stood looking at her front door, faced with the sudden remembrance that she had left her purse with her keys to the house back at the conference building. Feeling ridiculous, Relena turned and watched Heero coming up the steps, ready to tell him they were locked out. However, Heero, having deemed it safe enough, had stuck the handgun between his belt and jeans, reached into a pocket and pulled out a set of keys that, Relena knew, would hold one that would unlock her door. She frowned at Heero, who moved passed her and unlocked the door with no hint of shame, and rolled her eyes at his back, feeling slightly bemused.

Heero had never joined the Preventers. He declined her and Lady Une’s request every time, and yet he took responsibility for Relena’s welfare fully. If she did not trust Heero entirely, and understood how seriously he took his responsibilities, she would have found his dedication insane and more than a little bit creepy.

Initially after the Barton Incident Heero had taken to watch Relena from the shadows -entirely unnoticed by her and her official Preventer security detail- until after an assassin targeted her mother, Mareen Darlian, which forced him to interact with Relena directly. When what he had been doing for two years or so had been revealed, Relena had been furious.

Heero had opened the door and Bernard came bounding to the entrance at the sight of the pair, and Relena’s spirits was lifted.

Bernard was an Old English sheepdog, almost entirely white with a grey bottom, long shaggy fur that would cover his exceptionally bright eyes if Relena didn’t make a habit of trimming the fur above his eyes. She had had Bernard for several years now, and his friendly and playful personality always managed to make her smile even at her most stressed moments.

Heero, having been the first at the door when unlocking it, received attention from Bernard first. The dog stood on his hind legs with his forepaws on Heero’s chest, and Heero proceeded to fuss over him, scratching behind his ears while the dog panted happily. He always did like dogs; Relena thought, smiling as she stepped into the entrance hall and turned on a lamp that stood on the half table near the front door. Heero brushed Bernard away from him gently, and closed the front door as the dog turned unabashed to Relena.

Prepared to receive a leap from the dog, Relena was surprised when Bernard became unfamiliar with Relena suddenly; sniffing at her legs as though she was a stranger. “What’s wrong, boy?” she said in a light tone and, as she bent down to fuss him, saw the dried blood covering her legs from the knees down.

Lady Une’s blood.

A wave of grief and guilt tore through Relena abruptly. She had forgotten. She refused to break down, but she felt repulsed by her own skin, and wished she could crawl out of it.

She looked to Heero, where the brightness that had entered his eyes earlier was gone again. He looked at her seriously. “Go on,” he said. “I’ll do a patrol.”

Relena smiled at him, grateful to see him and to have him near. He was one of the few pillars she had left and, despite how she didn’t want to for his sake, relied on him more than either of them knew. “Thank you, Heero, for everything.”

Heero nodded once, his hands in his pockets, and Relena turned towards the stairs, ready to have a shower and clear as much of the evidence of tonight as possible, so she could regain some semblance of normality again.

* * *

 Ansel Ravencroft was _very_ angry.

For a small glimmering moment, everything was progressing accordingly. Relena had accepted his invitation, as had every other unimportant piece of droll that were long due for disposing of and he had won her affections with the removal of that dreadful Une woman. Ha! Lady indeed!

He was just taking his leave, with his love at his arm, to the beautiful harmonics only gunfire could produce, when the fog descended. The fog; which would cloud his mind and memories in its veil, impenetrable, blinded him for a moment, and in that moment it had all fallen apart.

Ansel spared a disgusted glance down his crooked nose at Sol and Luna, his supposed guards who lay on the floor, twitching in pain, the recently fallen snow disturbed all around them, fresh snowflakes landing on them unnoticed.

Ansel was all too aware of his singular flaw, of the fog, and had brought Sol and Luna along in the event that Ansel was left unable to tend to Relena. However, his foresight had been made in vain, as Relena had escaped him anyway, and he knew those two were to blame, regardless of what he could or, in this case, could not remember.

Ansel had designed the suits they wore himself and, aside from being atheistically pleasing, served several important functions; one of them being in punishment. At the utterance of a single command given by him, Ansel could spark an electrical strike at key areas in Sol’s and Luna’s body, the voltage not high enough to kill them immediately but to deliver maximum pain provided he paced the contraption.

Ansel preferred to control people through those his target’s cared about; families and friends. However, Sol and Luna had only each other. The emotional pain one felt when the other writhed in agony, mingled with their own physical pain, wrought an iron grip over them that Ansel required nothing else. It was what made them effective guardians.

Ansel spoke the command now, and found his spirits lifted as they jerked on the floor. He could imagine their screaming, he could hear it if he wanted to, if he allowed the radios on their helmets to transmit sound outbound, however they were not yet safe enough to risk their screams drawing attention.

Another command and the electric current ceased. Sol was lying on his back, his chest rising and falling as he fought for breath in utter silence. Luna was lying curled in a foetal position beside him taking short and quick inhalations in equal silence, both twitching from the side effect of the shock.

He stepped back and surveyed their surroundings. The airstrip continued to be empty of any prying eyes, as it should be considering this was _his_ private airstrip, however it did well to be sure. The bulk of his shuttle covered them from view in any case.

He looked down at them again, “Find her,” he spat, fury lining his words. “Kill the villain. Do _not_ fail me again.”

He was still furious. He could feel the anger lying just under the surface of his control, and the fog circling overhead of the anger, ready to spring if he allowed it to. But he knew he would be seeing Relena very shortly, and so he had to control himself, had to make himself presentable. It wouldn’t pay to let Relena see such an ugly side to him so early in their budding relationship. He had every confidence that Sol and Luna would succeed this time, for they knew the consequence of another failure.

As he turned away from them, climbing the steps to his shuttle, his anger left him in waves of heat as his thoughts turned to his future with Relena. A smile spread across his face as he contemplated how close it all was.

* * *

 For only a minute, Sol and Luna continued to lie still. The snow did little to cushion the hard tarmac beneath them, and they were indeed all too aware of Ansel’s wrath if he saw them, but they dared not move yet.

“He should have killed us…” Sol said, his voice cracking. “Why didn’t he?”

Luna, still twitching, reached painfully for Sol and slid her hand into his. He turned his helmeted head and squeezed her hand gently in return. She had no answers for him.

They both moved to stand, shaking at first, but then seemed to compose themselves and stood as if they hadn’t been tortured moments before. Then the two broke into a run, and sped along the airstrip with inhuman speed.

* * *

 The bathroom door stood opposite the stairs on the upper level, so Heero waited until Relena had closed and locked the door before moving around the house with Bernard trailing after him. He checked each room on the lower floor first; testing the windows to ensure they were still locked and glancing quickly to see if anything was out of place.

Heero had decided to take responsibility over Relena’s protection detail a year or so ago and this was still done from afar. He worked through roundabout methods and altered orders to her bodyguards remotely using Lady Une’s security codes and as thus Heero had never actually stepped inside Relena’s home. Even the house key he had was received from Mareen when they had met some time back.

Her home was modest despite her income and heritage. Downstairs held a kitchen, living room and office; however the office bore the marks of being the most lived-in, with pictures lining the wall in front of her desk which stood facing the window overlooking the town. Heero stopped in his search as he noticed the teddy bear staring with its black, beady eyes beside her monitor. It was some moments before he moved away, unknowingly smiling to himself.

As he turned away, a red glint caught his eye.

Framing the office on two joined walls were bookshelves that reached from the floor to the ceiling. The one closest to her desk contained work files and newspaper articles and looked the most used of the others. Opposite her desk, while holding some work folders that had been hastily shoved in for space, another shelf held more decorative pieces, with framed pictures, ornaments, small poetry books, and a healthy potted plant.

Beside a picture of a younger Relena with her mother by a darkened corner of the deep shelf, a red light blinked at him once.

Heero froze as waited for another flash, breathing slowly and quietly, and sure enough after a full minute another small blink of light blinked at him. The flash was so quick with a long wait in between each one that it was pure chance that he had even spotted it in the first place. Moving to the shelf he moved aside the picture carefully and reached to the back of the shelf. He felt nothing, except for a small jagged cut in the shelf. He pulled his arm away and waited for the flash again and, when it came a minute later, moved to small gap behind the bookshelf. With a reach and a quick tug, he pried the tiny spy camera from its place behind the bookshelf.

Turning it around to look at all sides showed no company logo or any kind of identification number, but he knew what the device was, for it was indeed a spy camera. The tiny thing was no bigger or longer than the rubber at the end of a pencil, black, with a tiny glass screen and another tiny bulb shaped screen above it where the red light blinked weakly at him. With the rather short lifespan and poor video and FPS quality on the camera, they were incredibly cheap, disposable and sold in bundles.

It was fortunate he had found even this one, as he was sure that there would be more. Many more. Heero bounced the tiny thing in his hand once before crushing it easily in his fingers. He knew Relena nor her security would use these things, it had to be Ansel.

Heero looked more carefully around the office, looking through the likely places where more would be hidden, and moved through each room again. Bernard retreated to his basket in the living room when it became clear that Heero wasn’t going to be giving him any more attention.

* * *

 Upon entering the bathroom Relena stripped out of her clothes, bundled them together unceremoniously and dumped them in a corner where she would later throw them away. They could be washed, but she didn’t think she could wear them without the memories of tonight resurfacing. She put Heero’s jacket on a hook at the back of the door to give to him later.

She brushed her teeth multiple times, trying to get rid of the taste of vomit and the memory of the coppery blood that splashed her face and mouth. Then she showered. She relished as she stood under the faucet and the heat ran over her, warming her bones and soothing the pain from her temple, which began to leak blood again as the dried blood impending the flow washed away. Once she had relaxed enough, she began washing the blood from her legs and hands and as it washed away down the plughole the tension she had been carrying through the evening since the attack left her in waves.

In her mind the burden of her responsibility still weighed upon her, but she was able now to remain optimistic. She had a goal; Heero was by her side and would help her, Ansel and his guards would be brought down, and those who died would be avenged. The task before her was enormous, for Ansel was powerful, but she wasn’t without her own power.

She heard Heero moving around the corridor outside as she stepped out of the shower, and the clicks of doors being opened and closed again some moments later. She wasn’t worried; her guards often patrolled the house during a situation that demanded it.

When the knock on the bathroom door came in three rapid bursts, Relena startled and almost slipped. “Is everything okay?” She said quickly, her heart in her throat.

“Come out,” Heero called through the door.

She couldn’t hear him move away, so she assumed he was waiting for her, and Relena began to dry and dress herself. Within seconds, she stepped out of the bathroom wearing a pair of grey jogging bottoms and a white cotton tank top as they were only clothes she had in the room, and startled as Heero barged into the bathroom as he passed her.

“Heero?” She called softly, feeling the tension she had only just relinquished return as she watched him move around the bathroom quickly, checking under appliances and systems.

“Heero, what is going on?!” She barked harsher than she intended as something like panic crept on the edges of her consciousness, but he finally gave her his attention by holding out his hand, closed fist, and dropping something into her open hand, his eyes still everywhere searching.

The tiny spy camera sat in the centre of her palm, and while she didn’t recognize it with as much familiarity as Heero the shape was recognisable enough for her to know what it was, and who put it there.

Relena looked at Heero as horror mounted. “How many?” She asked quietly.

“You don’t want to know,” he said and stepped forward to leave the bathroom. Relena was stood on the threshold between the bathroom and the hallway, and as Heero moved to edge passed her she stopped him by gripping his upper arm.

“Please, Heero...” she implored, squaring her jaw and looking into his eyes as he looked into hers. He paused, and she recognized his expression from earlier. He was looking to see if she could handle the information. She wasn’t sure she could, but she composed her expression and hoped it was enough.

“Thirty,” he said finally. “Most were downstairs; each room has a few to get reasonable angles from all sides.” She didn’t know and he wouldn’t tell her that he’d found at least triple what he’d found in one room alone in her bedroom, and she didn’t know and he wouldn’t tell her how it set his blood on fire in rage.

Relena gasped, releasing Heero’s arm and stepping away from him to lean against the doorframe, closing her eyes to avoid his, when a horrible thought flashed in her mind and she looked into the bathroom, but Heero answered her unasked question immediately. “I didn’t see any in there.”

She sighed with relief, “How did I not see them before, with that many?”

“They were placed well; unless you were looking for them you wouldn’t have seen them.”

She clutched a hand over her chest, “Could you tell how long they’ve been up for?” she asked.

Heero plucked the camera from Relena’s palm when he indicated her to hold it out, and inspected it, “These things have short lives. They last no longer than a week, but in places where they had been glued to the wall shows multiple applications.”

“How many?”

“At least four.”

Relena moved from the threshold to lean her elbows against the stair banister. She saw Bernard standing by the foot of the stairs – as he had been trained not to go upstairs - wagging his tail and panting happily, oblivious to her turmoil.

Relena watched him as she thought back, wondering who had entered her life in the past month or so who could have placed the cameras without her suspicion. Relena seldom had visitors. Try as she might, she couldn’t think of who would or could betray her trust that way.

 _But that’s the point, isn’t it?_ She thought dryly.

She thought of Ansel, how he had clearly been untrustworthy upon meeting him and yet his charisma and energy helped her to ignore it later. The cameras were no doubt set up under Ansel’s orders, but could there possibly be someone else in her life who had twitched her instincts in the same manner Ansel had?

A memory nudged at her, and she strived to reach for it, but it eluded her.

She came back to herself, and looked around to see Heero by her side, leaning against the banister as she did and watching her silently, his eyes as unreadable as always, although she saw a questioning expression.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly, “I don’t know who would do this and... I’m not sure I want to find out.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to start suspecting everyone I know and care about, if I do that, then Ansel gains control over me by not allowing me to trust anyone,” she said quietly, avoiding Heero’s gaze by watching Bernard. The dog had spotted Heero, and looked back and forth between them, eager for them to come downstairs as his tail continued to move enthusiastically.

“By that reasoning he still gains control over you anyway; whoever he has turned against you will continue to undermine you and by not looking for them you’re letting him,” Heero said bluntly.

Relena nodded, she had thought about that, but said, “Ansel’s plan was to kidnap me tonight. You interrupted him and threw his planning into chaos. The fact that he didn’t have someone waiting for us when we came here means he didn’t have a proper backup plan or, if he did, it was also foiled when you rescued me.” Now she looked at him. “Whoever he’s turned against me will have had a job to do once I was in Ansel’s possession, now my betrayer will have to continue their part or run away. Either way, we’ll know who it is through any move they make.”

“But-”

“When that happens I’ll deal with it then, but I won’t turn everyone I know about into an enemy.” She said as her pulse raced.

Heero said nothing more on the subject, although she suspected she hadn’t convinced him.

“Disable any cameras still active, but leave them where they are,” she said. “We can tell the Preventers about them and they can deal with them.”

Heero left her side.

* * *

 A couple of hours later, Heero was convinced he’d disabled all of the cameras. He had swept through the house three times, eventually finding several cameras in the bathroom after all, hiding in incredibly unlikely places where there was a only a small chance of getting any view, but placed seemingly in the desperation that the videos would capture something.

He decided to keep that discovery to himself.

Relena had gone downstairs, wanting to assist Heero the search, but he had insisted she sat down and let him down it, preferring to work without the distraction. He heard the news on the television playing in the living room, and saw as he made his way downstairs Relena sitting with her feet up and legs curled beside her on the leather couch, with Bernard lying in front her on the floor asleep.

She didn’t turn to look at him as he moved into the living room and leaned against the wall beside the couch, folding his arms and closing his eyes.

“We’ll have to go soon,” he said.

There was silence between them saving for the news report on the television and the gentle snores coming from Bernard. There was a preoccupied air around Relena.

“There hasn’t been a report about the massacre...” she said, her voice low and thick with emotion.

Heero responded in an equally low voice. “The police will try to keep it quiet for as long as they can until they can release the information themselves,” he said. “The Preventers will take jurisdiction though.”

Relena sighed, the tone heavy with the sorrow of someone much older than herself, and she held the ball of her palms to her eyes, pressing her face into her hands. She was quiet for some minutes before she said, “I keep thinking I can relax, and then something else happens and any composure I get just falls away. Why does this feel so different than in the War, or when Dekim had me?”

Heero was silent himself for some moments as he thought. “Because this is personal; Ansel’s coming after _you_. So far, he doesn’t have any ulterior motive,” he said. “It’s difficult to distance yourself in a situation like this.”

Relena nodded into her hands, still leaning on them. “Is that why I feel so responsible? Every time I close my eyes I see everyone who died tonight, I’m scared to stay in the quiet because I hear the gunshots when there’s no other noise.”

“You’re not responsible.”

“I am. If I wasn’t before, Ansel made me responsible the moment he made those men fire the guns and kill all those people. He made me responsible the moment Lady Une died.” She hunched over, her hands clutching her chest. “Oh God, poor Mariemaia; she has no one now.”

Heero blinked. He’d forgotten; Lady Une had adopted Mariemaia after the Incident and taken her in. Sometimes Mariemaia came into the Preventer building with Une. Heero had seen her from time-to-time, and the child they had met leading her army and the child she was now made her seem like an entirely different person. He knew Relena had become friendly with both Lady Une and Mariemaia in the recent years, visiting as often as her bloated schedule would allow.

Heero didn’t know what to say, but he watched as Relena’s body shook, and he thought maybe she had finally succumbed to tears, a delayed reaction to the shock of tonight possibly. She was entirely silent, as if holding her breath to contain herself, and Heero found himself at a loss as to what to do.

Grief took a range of forms when expressed that varied as much as there were differing personalities, and Heero had been numbed to death. His training and his experience in combat had forced him to accept that people died, and not always for good enough reasons, and never as kindly as innocents deserved, but to fall into depression served no one. The massacre that had occurred tonight was no worse and no better than the horrors he himself had seen.

However for Relena, who had gone her entire life protected and sheltered, and had – even when she ruled over the Sanq Kingdom and saw it burned all around her, and when she was kidnapped by Dekim Barton in the Barton Incident and was forced to watch as her brother, Noin, and the Gundam Pilots fought to reach the base – never seen a bloody and gruesome death. Her adoptive father’s death had been clean in comparison.

A dry sob escaped her, such a lost sound that, despite how controlled Heero was, affected him in a way that tugged at his own heart. But he was rooted in place, unsure as to what to do. He wasn’t _good_ at this kind of thing.

The sob had woken Bernard up, and he sat up immediately, his ears pricked and staring with his intelligent eyes as Relena’s curled form. He whined softly and put his huge head on her knee, licking her elbow where it rested on her leg. Relena responded distractedly by putting a hand on his head, scratching his head lightly.

Taking that as some encouragement Heero finally found his legs unfrozen, and moved to other side of the couch. He sat down beside her, close enough for her to reach him if she wanted to, but distant enough not to if she didn’t, and watched her silently.

Tears were running down her face and onto her chest, but she was as silent as ever. The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation, as if waiting for a storm to break. He could see how she bit on her lower lip until it bled with the force of keeping herself quiet, her eyes squeezed shut and her other hand on her forehead. She shook so much the couch trembled with her, and, Heero reached out tentatively with a hand and touched her shoulder.

The contact shocked her. She gasped and looked at him, the surprise clear on her soaked faced. Her eyes sparkled brightly.

Uncertainty made Heero pause but, trusting in instinct, he reach around to her other shoulder, and tugged gently once, his gaze locked with hers the entire time. The gesture unmistakable, she leaned towards him, and let him put his arm around her. She was stiff initially, as was he, both entirely unfamiliar with this level of intimacy.

“It’s alright,” he said, his voice slightly husky from his dry throat. Relena didn’t answer him but, within a few minutes, she relaxed into his hold.

* * *

 In the darkened cold outside, where he snow had stopped and the air stood still, Sol and Luna stood disguised by the shadows of the trees in the park opposite the conference building.

The conference building they and their Master and their target had been at only hours before was still a swarm of activity. S.W.A.T. teams, Police officers, paramedics and their various vehicles crowded the road and blocked a lot of the view, but as ambulances came and left the pair could discern what was happening.

The officials moved hurriedly in and out of the building, calling out to each other in low tones. No light from any vehicle flashed. Clearly they hoped to keep the commotion to a minimal, to avoid any media from swarming in until they were ready to tell the town what had happened. The dead had been dealt with long ago, and there looked to have been a few survivors. They would have to deal with them later.

They waited for some time more, undisturbed by the cold, until gradually the area cleared. Ansel had, in his rage, left no directions for Sol and Luna as to where they could find their target, and were forced to wait until the officials from the building cleared so they could retrace her steps.

Eventually, when the last detective left, they felt safe enough to move into the open.

They stood in the middle of the road, the blood had been cleared from the ground, but police tape cordoned off the front door, bearing the words “ _Do not enter. Police investigation.”_ In black, bold writing, and barriers had been erected on either end of the street to ward off wandering people. Ignoring the tape, Sol kicked sharply at one side of the double door near the handle, and the door swung open as the door handle flew off from its place. The tape snapped as he walked through it, with Luna trailing behind him.

Neither expected their target to still be in the building, but the fresh snow that had fell covered any tracks from earlier before, and they needed to find some means of locating any likely areas where their target lived, or would go.

With luck, the villain wouldn’t have taken her straight to the Preventers.

The pair split up, each taking a half of the building and searching, moving with inhuman speed and searching with eagle eyes. They didn’t need to turn on any of the lights; their night vision had also been enhanced in their upgrade.

Sometime later, Luna called out to Sol through her radio and within minutes he joined her in what appeared to be an unused office that had been converted into storage, where the coats and belongings of the guests of the party had been dumped unceremoniously on Ansel’s orders by his mercenaries. He had known no one would be returning to collect them.

Luna held in her long, delicate but strong fingers a purse that matched their target’s outfit at the party and, when she opened it up, contained the usual women items, as well as her house keys and cell phone.

Luna threw the rest of the purse away as she handed the phone to Sol, who turned it on and scrolled through the contacts list. Luckily for them their target had been careful to store her contact’s details, including their home addresses and relation to her, such as co-worker or acquaintance. They held only street names and door numbers, but that was of no concern to the pair, a street name was all they needed.

They held no information as to their target’s whereabouts, but they had the next best thing. Sol threw the cell phone to the floor and with the same speed as earlier darted from the room with Luna; within seconds they had left the building and were speeding along the road to their new destination.

In the darkened room, only the bright glare of the phone’s screen shed any light, throwing every shape into deeper shadow. Mareen Darlian’s information showed bright against the light background for a few moments, before fading to black.


	3. The Walk

Mareen Darlian glanced at the clock in the sitting room briefly through the kitchen as she finished tiding up from the day’s activity. The housekeeping staff always kept the place spotlessly clean and picked up after her anyway but she believed in being neat herself. Besides, the staff always found something to fill up the three hours they spent once a week in her house.

She’d had some dignitaries and their spouses around for an evening tea for a project she was working on for Relena, who had gone out for the evening with some other politicians to celebrate the fifth year of peace since the Barton Incident. It was nearing midnight when she finished drying and putting the dishes she’d used in the day away.

Mareen smiled inwardly as she sat down on the sofa, Relena must be having fun if she hadn’t called yet with exclamations of boredom and complaining of the ulterior motives so many politicians harboured. When her husband first took office, he’d complained of the exact same things, and it comforted Mareen in a way she couldn’t quite explain to herself of how much Relena reminded her of him on nights when she missed him a great deal…

Suddenly, the lights on the building went out. Mareen had a moment of shock and fear before she stood and hurried to the darkest corner of the sitting room she could see, one where the streetlights outside didn’t illuminate, and crouched in its shadows.

A few years back the lights had gone out in the same manner, when a group of terrorists had decided to target her to get to Relena. Back then, a young man had burst into the room, startling her but before she could do much more than scream, the young man had flashed some Preventer credentials she couldn’t see clearly in the darkness, and spoke to her politely but forcefully, and had moved her to a corner just like the one she crouched in now, telling her to stay there and stay quiet, before he dashed out.

She had obeyed him wordlessly, since his tone held the same authority her security had. She’d heard a scuffling, and sounds of exertion in tones from men who didn’t sound like the Preventer, and then silence. When she had the courage to stand up and turn a light on, she was greeted by the sight of men bigger and older than the young man, lying on the floor, clutching parts of themselves and groaning. The Preventer stood over them, looking entirely unharmed and undisturbed.

That was how Mareen had been introduced to Heero Yuy. Mareen had found herself as impressed with him as Relena had, albeit in a more fearful way. Mareen didn’t know that Heero wasn’t a part of the Preventers or that the credentials he’d waved in her face were faked, but what she did know was that he’d saved her life that day, before she knew she was in danger, and knew that he was something of a bodyguard of a sort for Relena.

And that was all she really had wanted to know. There was something dangerous in the glare the boy could give, and something in the way he spoke and held himself, that his experience made him much, much wiser than the older woman. But he was devoted to Relena, that much was plainly obvious, and her daughter in return respected him highly, and that was all she cared about.

A tinkle of broken glass brought Mareen back to the present; and she crouched as small as she could into the corner, trying to pace her breathing and make the panicked sound as quiet as possible, counting the seconds for the backup generator she had installed in the event of a similar situation happened again to activate, where she could scream for her own guard detail until they rushed to her defence.

She waited, and waited.

She recounted again in case her panicked mental ticking had been too fast.

She waited.

The door to the hall from the sitting room had been open as she’d left it, and although she heard no more sound since the breaking glass, the air in the room changed. The slight change in pressurization and the hairs that rose on the back of her neck that told her she suddenly wasn’t alone in her home, in her sitting room.

Mareen held her breath hoping, praying, that her senses were wrong and she couldn’t _feel_ someone enter the sitting room. Her palms began to sweat and clutch at her knees as she let her breath out in silent gasps.

Suddenly, someone stepped into the yellow light the streetlights outside shed through the blinds, and she had to fight to control the audible gasp that almost escaped her.

It was definitely a man; tall, muscled, wearing some kind space suit with his helmet still on from what she could see in the low light. He was holding some kind of thin pole in one hand, and as he raised it to place it against his shoulder she could see from the decorated hilt that it was a sword, a rapier, and something dripped from it.

The man wasn’t facing her, but she felt more confident than her quivering body portrayed that she’d chosen the darkest area in the room, and with that stupid helmet with the darkened visor on he couldn’t see her. If she just kept quiet, she could be safe enough until he left to move upstairs, where she could make a break for the front door.

The man’s head turned almost mechanically as he surveyed the room, and – moment of truth – slowly turned to face her. His head snapped to her angle and she was definitely and fearfully sure he could see her, yet he didn’t move toward her.

The helmeted head turned up to the ceiling, and a peculiar sound burst through the heavy silence that had Mareen not clamped a hand to her mouth would have caused her to cry out. The sound reminded her of a broken communicator, there was a crackling in the background but a high pitched whine that invaded her eardrums and made them hurt.

When the noise stopped, the streetlights outside went out and Mareen was plunged into complete darkness. She could see nothing in front of her, and the black seemed to press into her wide eyes, her ears, tightening her throat; it seemed to become a solid force that would blind her, deafen hear, suffocate her if she stayed where she was. Only the cold wall behind her that anchored her to her senses told her otherwise.

And yet, despite how she couldn’t see _must_ mean the man couldn’t see her either, she felt deadly exposed, naked, like she was still being watched. She closed her eyes for what little it did, squeezing them tight and shuddering in fear.

Then, the lights in the sitting room came back on. For a breaths-width of a moment she kept her eyes closed, but then grim curiosity made them open against her fear.

The two bloodied rapiers met her gaze.

* * *

The silence spread its hold over the entire house, with only a slight creek every so often as an appliance settled, and Bernard’s quiet snores added adding a gentle rhythm to do silence.

When Relena had finally settled down, she had fallen asleep curled against Heero’s side, who was awake but had fallen into a stupor and didn’t have the heart to wake her. He still had his arm around her.

Eventually, when the clock on the mantelpiece showed some time after one in the morning, Heero twisted his torso slightly to get a better grip around her back and moving his other arm to support her under her knees, moving smoothly so he stood with her still in his arms. She didn’t even stir.

He carried her upstairs to her bedroom and deposited her lightly on her bed before moving around the house, turning off lights and checking to ensure the doors and windows were still locked and bolted.

He did this several times as the night wore on, following a routine to keep himself alert and awake. His night vision was perfect, and oft times he would stand before a window and look out into the street or into Relena’s back garden to check for disturbances. The entire street was quiet.

It was around three in the morning, when Heero had finished another sweep through the house and was leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom when Relena stirred. She bolted upright and looked around the room, her eyes wide as she accommodated to the darkness and looked startled. Finally her sweeping gaze found Heero and she relaxed.

“I was dreaming.” She said softly, “Lady Une was still alive. She wasn’t moving, her eyes were wide open and she was staring at me as she lay on the floor. She didn’t speak but I could still feel her calling out to me.”

Heero pushed away from the wall and sat down on the floor. One leg crossed and the other raised, his elbow on his knee, leaning back against the bed and keeping his attention on the still hall outside. He’d closed all the doors in the house except for the bedroom door so he could still look out.

“It doesn’t make sense that he would kill Une as a gift for you,” Heero said, turning slightly to look back at her. “You’d forgiven her a long time ago, and it’s not uncommon knowledge that you two were friends.”

“I don’t want to assign any sort of logic or common sense to that man,” Relena said darkly.

“It’ll be easier to work out what he’s up to if you do. There _is_ logic there, it’ll be twisted and it’ll be wrong, but it will be there,” he said.

A heavy _thump_ behind him told him Relena had flopped her weight back onto the bed. “I know, but it’s easier just to think he’s just insane. It’s hard to think Lady Une died for some twisted purpose.”

Heero turned around to face her. She had thrown an arm over her eyes.

“It’s not like you to choose to believe something just because it’s easier,” he said, bluntly.

Relena was silent for a moment before she sighed heavily. “…You’re right. Just let me be unreasonable for a few minutes.”

Heero grunted once and turned away to focus outside the bedroom again.

“Heero?” Relena said softly, her tone tentative. “I want to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

She paused, but then said, “Are you always nearby?”

Heero was reluctant to answer. It wasn’t because he thought she wouldn’t like the answer, but because he suspected she already knew. The pause stretched and he hoped she was would drop the subject. But, of course, she wouldn’t.

“I’ve known you’ve been protecting me for a few years now, and had been before that, always in the shadows,” she said.

Although he kept his eyes focused on the hall before him he was excruciatingly aware that she had sat up again as she spoke and he could feel her gaze on the back of his head. He didn’t look at her; he lowered his gaze and focused on the floor.

“Even though I don’t see you; I know when you’re there and when you’re not.”

He felt the bed move as she shifted to lie down behind him, felt the pressure of her forehead against the back of his neck, felt how her breathing tickled him. He didn’t react visibly except to close his eyes.

“You’re there when I’m working away; making a speech or holding a meet. And you’re not when I’m at home; or working at the office or,” she whispered quietly, but he could hear her perfectly, “When I’m spending some personal time, like going to a party, on those rare moments they happen. You prefer to give me my privacy then.”

Now he could definitely see where she was going. He noticed his hand had curled into a fist and loosened it quickly; the action didn’t go unnoticed by Relena.

“I’m glad you were there,” she said, and finally she moved away, sitting up on the bed some distance from him, and he was grateful for it. “But I wonder why, when a party hardly constitutes as work.”

Heero blinked, her tone formed the question mark in her sentence and was unmistakable. His throat was dry _again_. Could he tell her?

Initially Heero had protected Relena because he knew she was important, that her ideals were not yet set in stone so as the system could continue without her: in short, she was still relied upon to enact her ideals. At some point without his knowledge, those feelings had shifted to something more personal. It stopped being about what she did, and more about her.

He didn’t know when the turning point had come around, but he doubted there was one set instance that changed how he viewed Relena. No doubt, as these things often are, it was a combination of many memorable _and_ unimportant instances.

He didn’t know if it was love. He’d never been in love before, and research only turned up things that did and didn’t correlate to being in love. He retained all of his senses around her; songs about love still sounded ridiculous and didn’t suddenly make sense.

Well, maybe a few did, particularly ones about their proclaimed love always being on their mind. And his reasons for protecting her had become almost entirely selfish. How important she had become as a figure to the world was secondary now.

At the very least, he cared deeply about her.

And, of course, Relena had been in love with him for years now.

They were both aware and strangely comfortable with each other’s feelings. However neither acted on exploring them aside from the few and far between displays of intimacy they indulged in every once in a blue moon; a soft brush of hands here, a chaste kiss there. Relena had her work which filled her days and her being, and offered her little time for a boyfriend, and Heero was still adjusting to a warless age and trying to leave his rigid training behind. They had never spoken of this, but they seemed to know nevertheless. It worked, for the majority of the time.

Heero was simply content to know there was _someone_ alive in the galaxy that he cared about, and Relena respected his wishes to keep a distance.

However, sometimes the distance wasn’t enough. Every so often, Heero would make himself known to Relena, and they would spend time together. They did nothing on the verge of romantic. Sometimes Heero would spend a few hours with her in the office in the city watching her work, having snippets of conversation with her when time allowed, or he would bring her back to his home in the city and show her whatever project he was working on at the time and let her ask him questions about it and, occasionally, open up about himself.

Somehow- when the attempt on her mother’s life occurred and Heero shadowing Relena had been revealed- those visits became less rare, with a shorter gap from the previous one.

With a pang of embarrassment Heero remembered he had hoped, if everything had gone according to plan tonight, to return to this room with her, albeit with different intentions in mind. The heat that rose to his face added to his embarrassment, and he fought to control his emotions before they got the better of him. Regardless of what he had planned, the situation was what it was, and any thoughts of initiating anything had to be smothered, at least for now.

Sometimes he forgot he’d only just left his teenage years behind.

Relena’s hand moved to settle on his shoulder, but she stopped as all of the lights in the house flashed on simultaneously. Heero bolted upright into a standing position and threw Relena a questioning glance.

“The lights are designed to turn on all at once if someone hacks the security,” She said softly. “Someone’s in the house.”

Relena threw herself off the bed and stood beside to the side of the bed as they heard Bernard whining loudly from downstairs, and then barking, and then release a short, sharp squeal of pain.

Relena gasped and her hands flew up to her mouth, and she started to run forward, but Heero stuck his arm out and caught her around the middle and held her close to stop her.

“No,” he hissed sharply but quietly, speaking over her quiet protests and struggles against his grip. “I’ll go. You hide somewhere until I call you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” She exclaimed, equally mutely.

Relena looked at him, and there was a fire in her eyes that he recognized from years ago, when she stood before his Gundam outside her school without a trace of fear, and Heero realized with a bite of irritation that she wasn’t going to do as he asked. She never was a cowardly person, and while she had matured in the past five years in the peacetime, she still had a frustratingly reckless streak.

Heero glared at her but she returned it with as much intensity, mirroring him, a silent battle of wills exchanged between their locked gazes.

There were faint sounds of movement downstairs, and Heero’s guard faltered. He needed to get Relena to safety and formulate a plan to stop or kill Sol and Luna –for whom else could it be?– and he could not spend the precious seconds fighting her as well.

A growl escaped him and he wrenched his gaze away from Relena, pulling the handgun that he’d kept on his hip for the whole night out and clicking off the safety, before grabbing Relena’s wrist and moving swiftly to the open door.

Heero crouched low by the doorframe –Relena mimicking his movements beside him- in a position that would enable him to leap up and dive around if he needed to with speed, but he still had a full clip and would use that before closing with either of the intruders. It wouldn’t take the deep blue and pale yellow suited antagonists to search downstairs and make their way to the first floor.

Heero ducked his head around the frame and scanned the hall, straining his hearing. They were being extremely quiet. Finally, he could hear the dull muted thuds as they walked up the stairs. Heero hid around the corner again, wishing he’d left the other doors upstairs open as the bedroom was, however it was too late to do anything about it now.

He then began counting mentally, there were fourteen steps from the bottom on the hall to the top, and he ticked down the number of faint thuds until they reached the top. But he could only hear one set of feet...

One...

Heero leaned around the doorframe quickly, gripping the frame for balance, and squeezed off four shots without sighting. Then Heero stood as a flash of pale yellow filled his sight. Pain spread across his arm as Sol landed a kick and Heero felt the gun spin out of his grasp. He stumbled backwards but recovered quickly. Sol seemed to forgo the rapier he wielded earlier, however Heero didn’t allow that to let him underestimate the taller man.

Sol aimed a punch at Heero who dodged it, angling to Sol’s side away from Relena and lashing out with a kick. It connected and Sol stumbled backwards, Heero followed him, lashing out wherever he could. The helmet seemed reinforced, which protected Sol’s head from almost every attack, and would make Heero’s job much more difficult. With no chance to knock out his opponent he would be forced to fight until one of them grew too tired to continue.

Sol was at least as fast as Heero, and blocked many of his attacks, yet the helmet which protected him also encumbered him somewhat and clearly impaired his vision. Heero picked up on this handicap quickly and took advantage of it, spinning and moving around Sol to stand out of his field of vision and land kicks, punches, anything on Sol before he could dodge.

Sol adapted to this quickly, however, and ran at and grabbed Heero, driving him backwards until they hit a wall and Heero saw stars burst before his eyes as his head slammed back against the wall. Sol took advantage of Heero’s daze and threw punch after punch into Heero’s stomach.

Punching is an endurance draining attack however, and it wasn’t long before Sol stumbled back to regain some breath.

There was a moment of respite as the two watched one another, recovering. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes since Bernard had squealed downstairs, and Heero felt sweat bead on his forehead as he breathed deeply, tasting copper on his tongue.

Sol fared far worse, panting quickly and shaking all over, which was strange. It had been hours since they had last fought for those few seconds in the conference building, and Sol was at least as physically fit as Heero was if his speed and strength were any indication. Sol should _not_ be in this state already, who looked as though he was ready to collapse.

Despite that, Sol pulled back his arm, fist clenched-

Relena dived in between them, her back against Heero’s chest, gripping his forearms. There was a strange, bulky shape at her lower back, pressing into his stomach uncomfortably.

Sol stilled.

For a long moment, no one moved, or spoke. The air was still save for Heero’s and Sol’s breathing.

Relena moved a sliver of a step away from Heero, removing her hands from him, and giving him a chance to look down –

She had tucked the handgun he’d dropped earlier into her pants at her lower back.

“...Sol?” She said.

Sol made no indication of hearing her, but she had his complete raptured attention, still panting harshly –the sound was audible if muffled through the helmet- and shaking. He twitched.

Swiftly, Heero grabbed the handgun and freed it from her pants, and aimed passed her head, finger on the trigger, over her shoulder.

“Give up,” she said. “We don’t want to kill you.”

Sol stumbled backwards but said nothing.

“You don’t have to keep fighting,” she said. “I know you’re a good person, deep down. Ansel battered me until I cowered with fear and _you_ stopped him. You could have left him to continue, but you didn’t.”

Sol tilted his helmeted head at her and his left arm jerked violently once. Relena seemed to be encouraged that he was listening to her at least, and stepped forward some more as she edged around him.

“Ansel is a coward,” she continued. “He relies on people stronger than him to do his bidding.”

Relena moved forward some more, half-circling Sol. He waited, giving Relena her shot. He mentally ticked off the rounds he had fired earlier. He only had two bullets remaining, and he had spent his last clip earlier in the evening; he needed to make them count if he had to shoot.

Sol stumbled back as Relena approached him, and Heero cautiously called her name. Relena raised her hand up in a clear “wait” gesture, and Heero stayed mute, keeping his gaze sighting down the handgun. He stood no more than five feet from Sol and reinforced helmet or not, there was little that could stop a bullet this close.

“Ansel is alone and weak without people like you.” Relena edged around Sol, keeping her distance, and he mimicked her movements in an almost trance so he stood straight with his back toward the wide window, his sight directed at Relena unmoving. He seemed to have regained his breath although he still twitched every so often.

“Ansel,” Relena said with her eyes burning and her chin lifted to meet Sol’s gaze, “does not own you.”

Sol’s breath hitched in his throat, and he was silent. He tilted his head again then, slowly and carefully, reached out and touched his palm lightly to Relena’s cheek. _Something_ -although Heero couldn’t quite describe what- passed between the two, and made him slightly… jealous to be witnessing it.

Relena seemed to catch the atmosphere too; her eyes widened in recognition.

A faint click broke through the silence, a click that resounded near the jaw line of Sol’s helmet, and a quiet hiss of a radio permitted through the air.

“I ... I’m sorry,” said Sol.

Relena gasped and stepped back away from Sol, and Heero’s eyes widened also. The voice was deep, as before, deeper than anything a human could produce naturally, and had a mechanical edge to it although that could be attributed to the radio he spoke through.

However, there was still something unmistakably familiar about it.

Then, Sol folded at the stomach and he shook hard, his knees bending. The radio in his helmet was still on and they could hear his grunts and gasps of pain loudly and clearly. The air crackled with static around him. A thump resounded from him in a steady pace, it sounded like a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, this time with an edge of desperation lining his words and Heero was suddenly unsure if he was talking to them or to someone in his radio.

The thrumming heartbeat sped up.

“Relena, get back,” Heero said quickly and she complied; darting to his side. He pushed her behind him, and began moving backwards, keeping the handgun aimed steady at Sol.

Then, the static faded and the heartbeat ceased and Sol’s arms hung loose before him as he was bent double. The radio turned off also, plunging the house into a deafening silence.

Suddenly Sol straightened like a stringed puppet, turned, and sped across the room with an unnatural speed. Heero fired the handgun once reflexively but Sol dodged it with an air as if he knew where Heero would be firing before _he_ did.

_Thump, thump, thump, thump._

Pain exploded between Heero’s eyes, his chest, and his arms. His arms went numb, he couldn’t breathe and his vision flashed white.

_Thump, thump, thump._

Pain rammed Heero backwards as he was struck across the face three times in rapid succession with a speed and strength that left Heero dumb. He could hear Relena screaming, but she was so far away...

_THUMP-THUMP!_

_Crack!_

Heero felt at least a couple of ribs giving away under two more attacks. He still couldn’t see.

His awareness was fading but he could barely sense he’d stumbled back into the hall. He shook his head vigorously to clear it but it seemed to make him more sluggish, although he did gain some of his sight back. Every time inhaled breath a sharp stabbing pain punctured his lungs. He tried to breathe shallowly but adrenaline was still flooding through his system and he felt like wasn’t getting enough air.

Multi-coloured stars danced in his vision as Sol walked steady toward him. Time had slowed unbearably as Heero raised the handgun.

Sol stopped to consider him.

But the handgun wasn’t in his grasp anymore. Where had it gone?

Sol tilted his head to the side, and then gracefully spun to deal a high side kick.

_CRACK!_

The hit connected at his ear with force, and he was thrown sideways.

Heero braced dozily for the floor to meet him, but there was only the stairs. He tumbled down them haphazardly, feeling his shoulder dislocate and his elbow twist painfully as his arm caught in the banister and broke before he fell all the way down.

He smacked his head against the floor, and finally faded out of consciousness.

* * *

 Sol reached Heero with unnatural speed as the gun banged once, the noise so close to Relena’s ears that she felt a ringing in them. But Sol dodged the shot, _how was that possible?_

Heero shoved Relena aside as Sol drew close and she stumbled until she hit the floor, landing painfully on her bruised arm where the majority of Ansel’s blows had struck. She ignored the pain and looked around for Heero. Sol was punching him in a series of dull _cracks_ and _thumps_ with a vicious speed and driving him backwards.

“Heero!” Relena called, scrambling up to her knees. Her eyes were drawn to the handgun that lay discarded at the door frame behind Sol, who was still pushing Heero back with furious jabs and kicks. She picked up the handgun and hurried to the bedroom door, her hair flying in her face.

She ran through the door, but Sol was spinning and kicking Heero, another loud _CRACK_ resounded with a sickening jolt, and Heero flew out of sight and down the stairs. More sickening _thuds_ and _thumps_ followed.

“NO!” Relena cried hoarsely as she pushed passed the prone Sol, who stood at the top of the stairs and let her, his attention focused entirely on Heero.

Heero had landed in the hall on his left side, his left arm twisted strangely around his back and a huge knot that Relena couldn’t recognize stuck out of his shoulder. Blood leaked from his mouth, his nose. Huge red welts appeared on his arms and legs as she kneeled beside him, not knowing what to do or if disturbing him would do more harm. His eyes were open, staring unseeing as Lady Une had.

 _He’s not dead,_ she prayed with tears streaming down her face. _He can’t be._

She touched his right hand on the carpeted floor; the only part of him that looked remotely safe to touch.

Sol’s heavy footfalls on the stairs distracted her. Relena looked at him and stood up hastily; standing in front of Heero and raising the handgun in her unsteady grasp, “Get back!” she called out uselessly, glaring and conveying all of her hate.

Sol stopped at the bottom of the stairs, a few feet away from Relena and Heero. The radio at his jaw clicked on again, and that strange hum permitted the air.

“My orders are to bring you to Ansel and kill the villain. I would prefer to do so without hurting you. Step aside,” his deep voice rumbled. It sounded different from earlier, and the thread of recognition she’d gleamed before was gone. She didn’t know this person at all.

Relena shook her head sharply. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

Sol inclined his head, tilting it, and sighed melodramatically. He then lifted his arm and Relena noticed an unusual appliance strapped to his wrist, he pressed a couple of buttons on it and stuck his arm out to his side. A beam of light stretched from his wrist to the floor, where a holographic image fizzled into life.

Relena gasped.

Luna’s image appeared as solid as though she was actually standing there; she had her own arm lifted as she peered down into a screen on her wrist. Then, she turned to face Sol, Relena and the still Heero. She was holding a rapier, with another one fastened to a belt at her waist.

Sol was silent, but there was an impression of communication, and Luna nodded in comprehension. She walked to the side and her image disappeared as if she had walked through a wall. There was a sound of a struggle, and Luna reappeared.

A hand left the gun involuntarily and flew to Relena’s mouth in shock, she began to shake violently.

Mareen Darlian looked exhausted, her prim clothes were rumpled and her stance was awkward, as though standing was painful for her. Her hair had come loose in places from her elegant bun, and there was a scrape across her cheek. Otherwise, she looked unharmed.

“Mother,” she whispered softly.

Mareen didn’t seem to hear her, and her mouth was moving as if speaking, although sluggishly, and Relena vaguely understood – in the back of her mind that was still working properly - that the hologram was in image only, and that Sol communicated with Luna through a long range distance radio of some sort. The image held for a moment, and then Luna was shoving Mareen out of view again before the image faded.

Sol lowered his arm limp back at his side.

“We can kill you in more ways than one, Relena Peacecraft,” Sol said. “I would prefer not to.”

Relena sagged as she turned to Sol, feeling utterly defeated.

They had taken her adoptive mother, they had beaten Heero, and they had killed Lady Une. Three important pillars in Relena’s life, three people whom she relied upon more than any of them ever knew, were toppling. How much longer could she continue pushing forward without the people she cared for the most, who were her driving force in everything she did?

Relena had never felt more tired in her life than she did right now. Depression sunk its withered fangs painfully slowly into her core. She was looking at Sol but she had lost her focus, she couldn’t see.

What future was there for her? If she stepped aside she would save her mother, but kill Heero, if she refused she would save Heero, but kill her mother. She couldn’t shoot Sol, if by some divine luck she managed to hit and kill him, Luna would kill her mother wherever she was.

Sol was talking but she couldn’t hear him. The black pit that earlier had threatened to engulf her was back once again, and once again she sunk without the will to save herself.

She looked back at Heero, the handgun hanging loosely in her grip by her side. His equally bright and dark blue eyes stared without seeing.

Relena suddenly had a vision of Heero standing outside of the Gundam Zero One’s cockpit, a detonator clutched in one hand. She remembered watching the feed on television, where Oz had opened a channel from one of the broken mobile suits in the area to show the Colonies and the Earth that a Gundam could be defeated.

 _Mission accepted,_ he had said, and pressed the button. Zero One had exploded, taking Heero with it.

Relena blinked, looking away from Heero as another option dawned upon her. She looked at Sol, squaring her jaw and drawing her eyebrows together in a frown. Sol paused in his stream of talk. She hadn’t listened to a word he had been saying, but it didn’t matter.

Relena raised the handgun’s muzzle to her temple, and put the faintest pressure on the trigger. If Sol was to startle her at all, she would squeeze it the rest of the way. Sol seemed to realize this as well and froze. He waited for Relena to speak.

Relena took a deep breath to steel her nerves, and then said, “Luna is going to take my mother to the Preventers, and she is to arrive there unharmed. You will give medical aid to Heero so he is stable and then you will call for an ambulance.” Relena’s hand balled into a fist. “Then, you can take me to Ansel. He doesn’t need to know that “ _the villain_ ” is alive.”

Sol was silent for several long minutes and Relena had to fight to stop herself from shaking, the effort to keep the precious pressure on the trigger was more arduous than she thought.

“Very well,” he said at last. “Luna is taking Mareen Darlian to the Preventers. I will stabilize your guard while we wait.”

Relena was loathing doing so, but she stepped away from Heero, allowing Sol to kneel down beside him.

“Might I ask,” Sol asked in a careful tone before starting. “What would you do if your guard could not be stabilized?”

“I would pull the trigger,” she said, surprised at how emotionless she sounded.

“But if you did, we would have no further need of Mareen Darlian, and we could kill her.” Sol said, looking at her with his head tilted.

Ice speared into Relena’s heart and she fought to control herself. She shrugged, her face a controlled mask, and said in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. “What would that matter to a dead person? I think you’d better concentrate on stabilizing Heero than asking me inane questions.”

Sol grunted, and began attending to Heero.

Relena watched over him attentively. Sol was clearly absorbed in his work to stabilize Heero; he moved the younger man carefully, popping his dislocated shoulder back into its socket first before moving him, muttering to himself as applied the slightest pressures here and there to check for the extent of the damage.

When he asked, Relena gave Sol directions to the kitchen where he could find a first aid kit. Then, Sol removed Heero’s shirt carefully and began mopping up the blood that oozed from various cuts and scratches, binding them in bandages. He put a hand on a rib where an ugly mottled bruise had formed already, and meticulously began wrapping a bandage tightly around his chest.

Sol had stopped for a moment, and she couldn’t help but feel like he was watching her in his peripheral vision.

Relena redoubled her attention on the gun still pressed to her temple. Sol continued.

The minutes stretched as Sol worked slowly and deliberately.

Relena felt her heart hammer in her chest as she watched him pass his gloved hand over Heero’s eyes to close them. “Don’t worry, he is alive.” He said, but Relena swallowed thickly around a ball in her throat nevertheless.

When Sol finally stood up and took several steps backwards, he indicated for Relena to check his handiwork. “Does he meet your standard?” He said in a light tone.

“Go stand in the kitchen while I find out,” she said firmly.

Sol inclined his head and did as he was bid, saying as he moved, “I did what I could on what I could see. He’ll probably have some internal injuries that will need attending to.”

When he was out of sight, Relena finally lowered the gun and rubbed at her sore arm. Then, she kneeled beside Heero. She moved to hold his hand and with her other hand she checked for his pulse with two fingers. She was shaking, but she could feel the steady pulse. She sighed with relief.

Sol had done a good job considering the tools he had been given, however Heero still looked as defeated and broken as she’d ever seen him. There were dark red welts all over him, and his left arm was clearly broken from the small bump as a bone protruded under the skin. One cheek was swollen and red, and in some areas he was already bruising. There were dark bags under his now closed eyes as she swept her fingers through his bangs, moving them aside.

She bent to kiss him on the forehead, lingering there.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his hair. “This is all I can do for you. Please survive.”

Heero made a soft sound in the back of his throat, but he didn’t stir. His breathing was shallow.

Relena thought back to everything he had been through in the Eve Wars and the Barton Incident, and hope filled her weakly fluttering heart as she thought _maybe_ he could survive this too. Although she despaired at how much had had gone through already.

 _He’s must be twenty-one now, at least, and already he’s gone through more than most people ever do._ She thought sadly. _So have I, for that matter._

It had been possibly a minute since Sol had left them, and so she stood, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hands. “What’s Luna’s progress?” She called out.

Sol stepped back out from the kitchen, and wordlessly began fiddling with the device on his wrist again, there was a moment of silence before Sol aimed his wrist again and another image flared.

This time, it showed the Preventer HQ from a distance. Fresh snow was falling, which looked strange on the hologram. Relena watched as her mother was talking with some officials at the front of the building, gesticulating wildly and looking distressed.

The image shook and turned violently, and then Luna’s head and shoulders filled the hologram. The hologram deepened in colour, as if Luna was standing in darkness. “It’s done,” her voice rang out. “Now it’s your turn, Relena Peacecraft.”

The image was cut.

Relena nodded. “Fine, move Heero into the living room and put him on the couch before you call for the ambulance.”

Sol inclined his head again, and once again followed her orders. He was careful as he picked up Heero. “Might I suggest that you change into some warmer clothes? I cannot have you freezing to death when we leave,” he said.

“Fine,” she said irritated before racing upstairs.

She changed quickly, throwing on the nearest set of clothes she could grab, which happened to be her work clothes with the embroidered jacket and pants and shiny boots. As an afterthought, she ran a comb through her hair and threw it up into a ponytail, her now longer bangs framing her face and brushing into her eyes.

She threw a distressed glance around her room, noticing the chaos that Heero and Sol’s fight had ensued. The bed was askew, ornaments were lying broken on the floor and her dressing table was lying on its side, the mirror broken into several pieces. She looked into the mirror and caught her reflection displayed in multiple frames. She looked dishevelled and strained, she wasn’t surprised.

She grabbed the handgun that she had discarded onto the bed, and raced back downstairs. Gripping the handgun tightly in one hand, she peered cautiously into the living room.

Sol stood by the telephone in the far corner of the room; she spared him only a slight glance before looking for Heero, who had been deposited carefully onto the deep sofa. He looked as though he might have been sleeping, if not for the bandages and the wounds.

Her eyes registered a large white shape, and she made out Bernard lying sprawled in his basket. She ran and dropped to her knees beside him, touching his moving side with relief. She puzzled as to why Sol had merely knocked Bernard out instead of killing him, but she wasn’t about to question him out loud. If everything progressed as she hoped, no one else would die tonight.

Sol had been speaking into the loudspeaker on the phone and was finishing the brief call when Relena had fallen to Bernard’s side. “The emergency services are on their way,” he announced.

Relena nodded. “Then we’d better leave before they get here,” she said.

“Indeed,” Sol agreed.

Relena stood, still clutching the handgun tightly, watching Sol carefully and keeping her distance in case he made a sudden move. As Sol moved out of the living room and to the front door, Relena took one last look at Heero, taking courage in his strength and his survivability.

* * *

 Ansel sat in darkness in his private shuttle; the roaring activity that was his mind was soothed when he relaxed in pitch black. His elbow rested comfortably on the arm rest of his chair and he swirled a glass of wine gently, the rhythmic motion soothing the swirl that ensnared his mind.

Ansel had not slept all night. _Oh_ no! He had been far too anxious to do so, and he was feeling rather wired. Classical music sang its way through the cabin, and Ansel stood and swayed and danced in time with the undulations, feeling excitement tickle his fingertips and heat rise to his cheeks.

A console sat opposite him, and two lights flashed and a melodic beep hummed in time with the yellow and blue flashes. Ansel smiled inwardly; Sol and Luna were coming home, no doubt they would have his dearest Relena with them.

Some moments ago, there had been a hiccup. A program installed within Sol and Luna’s suits had detected a moment of doubt, a moment where one or both of them considered defecting.

Of course, they thought about it a lot -mostly when he punished them- however neither had the power to act upon those fevered desires. While one lived the other was powerless. Nevertheless, one of them had become close to actually doing it, but all it took was a slight automated boost in their –ah- _medicine_ and all thoughts of disloyalty left them!

On an ordinary day, Ansel would have derived quite a lot of pleasure in punishing them both for one’s slipup, but today was no ordinary day, and he was feeling charitable. Also, while he was quite sure he had wooed Relena and won her affections, he didn’t want to scare her by electrocuting his guards.

Sometime later, when the lights in the shuttle were on and Ansel had spent some considerable time brightening his appearance and hiding the evidence of his exhaustion, the lights on the console beeped and flashed again. Ansel twirled in line with the music, and headed to the shuttle door.

He had a magnificent view of the airstrip and a car, no doubt stolen, cruised along the side of the strip. He could just about see Sol and – his heart skipped a beat – Relena sitting in the front seats through the darkness.

A wide smile stretched across his thin features as he descended the stairs leading to the shuttle with dignity, by the time he reached the bottom the car had halted and the trio had exited the vehicle. They proceeded toward the shuttle, Relena walking freely in the middle and Sol and Luna walking just behind her, as though they were her bodyguards.

Well, he _supposed_ he could share them.

Ansel chuckled. “My dear! I’m so glad you made your way back to me!” He said dramatically, throwing his arms out wide.

The lovely Relena paused about ten feet away from him, the most peculiar expression on her beautifully young face, and she raised an arm holding something in her hand.

A gun?

_BANG!_

The shot echoed in the open space, but Relena was no marksman and it missed. Ansel cried out, flinging his arms over his head and cowering.

The fog!

Oh Gods; _the fog was returning_!

Ansel made a low keening sound in his throat as he rocked backwards and forwards to bind him to his senses, the black fog was descending over his eyes but – _but!-_ if he could just keep control, he wouldn’t be blinded.

There was a sound of scuffling ahead of him but Ansel blocked it out, concentrating furiously, focusing on a stone that the snow hadn’t covered that lay before him and using it as an anchor point. He could feel the ringing drawing closer in his ears and he keened louder to shut it out.

Minutes, hours, days passed, Ansel didn’t know how long but, eventually, he was able to stop the fog’s descent. He stopped wailing and breathed deeply and slowly, almost daring the fog to return so he could flaunt his control over it.

He knew it was reckless to will its return. He could control it once every so often, but multiple descents were impossible to hold back. _That_ was what made him such a wonderful person, he knew his weakness –for he had only one- and he could control it.

To an extent.

Then, acting as though he hadn’t had an episode, he stood and spread his arms out once more; smiling tightly that looked more like a grimace.

Relena stood in between Sol and Luna, as she had before, only this time she didn’t have a gun, and perhaps she looked slightly more ruffled than earlier. Had she fired at him at all? Did he imagine the gun?

Doubt gripped him. It was possible.

He laughed uncertainly before plunging ahead and renewing his posture with extra vigour as he strode forward. If you can’t be confident, assume confidence. He stopped before Relena, his eyes roving around her face, her body...

She had even dressed appropriately for him, wearing the clothes he had first met her in! Oh this _must_ be as special a night for her as it was for him!

Rejoicing at her approval of him, he hugged her tightly, cradling her beautiful head against his collar and swaying gently. She was stiff in his hold, but that was okay too, she would take time to adjust to their new relationship. They all did.

Ansel stepped away from her, holding her gloved hands delicately in his own.

“My dear, sweet, Relena; welcome to the first day of the rest of your life!”

 


	4. The Stars My Destination

Relena stepped into the shuttle with Ansel just behind her, the palm of his hand resting on her lower back. Her skin crawled with the contact, but after witnessing his episode just moments before, she decided not to combat it.

“I apologise for the humble appearance of this carrier, my dear,” Ansel said, gesturing to the fairly standard looking shuttle, “this is merely until we reach Space.”

“Humble suits me fine,” she said, offhandedly in a manner she was used to giving when nobles felt they needed to apologise for even the most extravagant of things presented to her for whatever reason. The Colonies lacked that humility, and were more likely to be proud of the scuffs and wears.

Ansel seemed pleased nevertheless, and Relena was careful to keep her face blank as they stepped in together. He led her to one of the recliners, and began bustling around a drinks cabinet near the front of the compartment, taking two tall glasses and filling them with champagne. Relena’s stomach lurched at the sight of them, thinking them eerily similar to the drinks that had knocked her out earlier in the night, but – again – she decided to keep this to herself.

Sol and Luna had disappeared into the pilot’s cabin and Relena felt more exposed without their presence on either side of her. The feeling puzzled her, but she locked it away for later. For now, she would attempt to wrestle some information out of Ansel. If she was going to be here, she would spend the time wisely.

Ansel indicated for her to sit at one of the plush recliners as he laid their drinks on small tables beside their chairs, while he sat opposite her in his. She decidedly ignored her drink as his eyes were staring unwaveringly at her.

Relena realized she would have to talk to Ansel. Although she was dreading doing so, her composure was calm. The fear and the worry that had built up during the night had reached its peak and, like breaking the surface of the icy water, once she had reached that peak she flew over it, and found she could no longer feel those distressing emotions. She had left them behind for the cool detachment she had sought after.

Compartmentalization. Heero would be proud.

“ _Compartmentalization,_ ” he had said, the memory clear to her mind, as this was one of the rare occasions where Heero had opened up about himself. “ _It’s a discipline. You don’t stop feeling, but you put them aside. You call on them when you need them to win, but distance yourself when they can cloud you._ ”

“ _It sounds difficult. How do you cut a part of yourself off in such a way?_ ”

“ _I was taught when I was young. Some never learn how to, some can do it automatically._ ”

Heero had trailed off then, looking distant, and Relena had asked, “ _Did Dr J teach you this?_ ”

“ _No. This was ... earlier._ ”

He didn’t elaborate, and Relena didn’t ask him for more information. Heero rarely shared anything about himself, so in moments where he did, Relena learned to take the small snippets of information to merge later, to learn more about him. That day, however, Relena had learned more about Heero than she had ever before. It certainly explained how he seemed to handle the war, and alluded to how the other ex-Gundam Pilots handled it as well.

Up until now, Relena could never compartmentalize in the way Heero had tried to impress upon her, but now, it was so clear she vaguely wondered how she couldn’t before.

Relena’s hands clenched into fists as she thought of him.

_Dangerous,_ she thought. She would have to put Heero out of her mind for now, as thinking of him would indeed cloud her mind and her judgement.

“Where are we going?” She asked.

“We’re heading to one of my company’s outposts first to stock up, transfer cargo, and refuel. Then,” Ansel winked, “we’re going home.”

“Home...”

“Yes,” he said, his thin lips spreading to reveal his teeth in a smile. “You’ll love it.”

Relena forced her hands to unclench and subdued her imagination. Ansel’s eyes were roving over her all the time. At press conferences, where there were hordes of people milling around and listening to her speeches, Relena was used to these particular stares, but Relena knew of Ansel’s... feelings for her.

“What do you want with me?” Relena blurted out without much thought.

Ansel’s dark grey eyes brightened and he leaned forward eagerly. “Oh, my Relena, almost nothing, I have plenty of gifts to give you first!” He said.

_Almost_ was not lost on her.

“I can hardly expect to receive gifts without having the opportunity to rescind the gesture,” she replied, realising the implications of her words immediately but wanting to give _ever impression_ that she was co-operating. Whether she would, or not, was an entirely different matter.

“You can, you _will,_ in due time, my dear,” he said, leaning forward further to pat her hand delicately. “Tonight was merely the beginning; I can promise what’s to come will be nowhere near as bloody, but I thought it was best to get the most unpleasant, but necessary, gift out of the way first.”

The way his nose wrinkled as he spoke caused Relena’s jaw to tense in a way she had never really experienced before, but she was quick to catch it, and mask it.

The shuttle’s engine slowly built up heat, rumbling to life. In moments, it started to move.

* * *

  _I’m sorry..._

_This is all I can do for you..._

* * *

  _Relena..._

Heero resurfaced.

He did so slowly without giving any outward impression to anyone who could be watching that he had. Externally, his body was still asleep, but his mind was whirring so by the time he awoke fully, his other senses had given him all the information he needed.

His forehead was pressed against something wooden that had warmed to his temperature. His arms were painfully pulled back taut and his hands were pressed together. He shifted, and the metallic clink of the handcuffs confirmed his suspicions. He strained his hearing for a moment, but all he could hear was his own low breathing.

Lifting his head brought a bout of nausea, light-headedness and a dull throb of pain that resonated from his head and awoke every other aches and pains in the rest of his body. There was what could only be described as an icy-heat running along his left arm that told him it was broken. His ribs felt bruised and sensitive. From what he could see when he cracked his eyelids apart, he’d been bandaged up. There was some kind of stiff material holding his arm in one position which, with his hands cuffed, twisted it uncomfortably. His head pounded.

He groaned low in his throat.

When the episode passed, he lifted his head and took in his immediate surroundings. He recognised the room immediately, although never from this perspective; it was the Preventers interrogation room. The room was bare of any decoration aside from the two-way mirror, the chair he was bound to, the desk before him, and another chair opposite the desk.

Heero leaned his forehead against the desk once more, blocking out everything around him. He could spend time contemplating why he was bound to a chair in the Preventer’s interrogation room, but he figured he would find out soon enough. He couldn’t have been placed here for very long, and chances were the jostling he took when they cuffed him to the chair flared up his wounds and woke him up in the first place.

No, it was pointless worrying about that; now he had to work out his next move. There were no windows in the small box room to give any indication of the time of day, but Heero had an inkling that he had been unconscious for several hours at least, perhaps longer.

Sol had been precise in his strikes. He would have almost certainly killed Heero if he hadn’t defended himself and fought back quickly enough. His body felt more battered than it had in a long time, and while a lot of his training had been condition upon him, ingrained into him, he was still out of practise. Breaks and cuts he would have been able to block out and ignore during the war were freshly painful. Raw.

Was that a testament to Sol’s strength, or Heero’s fall from practise? Probably both.

_I’m sorry; this is all I can do for you..._

Heero blinked, his breath catching in his throat. What did she do?

_Gave herself up._

Heero squeezed his eyes closed and pulled against the cuffs, cutting into his wrists. A mixture of anger and... Something else welled up inside him. It was powerful. Those words she spoke to him had come so clearly in his dream-filled state. She had somehow been in a position of power over Sol, where she could bargain with him, and she had used it to buy Heero’s life.

“Damnit,” he muttered.

He stopped straining against the cuffs. He felt a warm wetness trickle from his bare hand, and heard the beginnings of the steady drip to the floor behind him. The worst pain was from his reset arm as the cuff on that arm cut into the cast and put pressure on the break, he barely registered the new sting from his wrist.

His head ached.

Heero continued to sit in solitude for some time, plotting his next move, when he eventually heard sounds of activity from outside. There seemed to be a discussion taking place, or rather one person was yelling while another spoke softer but with equal aggression at least.

The door burst open and the discussion ended suddenly as two sets of feet thundered in.

“You,” an unfamiliar voice commanded. “Look at me!”

Heero kept his head bowed.

A fist was pounded into the desk, making it leap.

“Answer me!” The command came again.

“Sir, I told you –“

“OUT, NOW!”

The second voice was familiar immediately before it was interrupted. There was a moment of silence, but then Wufei plodded away heavily, the door slamming shut behind him.

“Insolence,” the first muttered under his breath, “a child like that in the force, and at that rank! What was Commander Une thinking?”

Heero offered him no insight.

The chair opposite Heero was pulled out, and an evidently heavy weight settled into it, making it creak in protest.

“And you look no older than that officer,” he said in a louder tone. “Yet you are equally disrespectful.”

There was a long pause which Heero left unbroken. The man before him was entirely unfamiliar to him, and wasn’t worth contemplating for now.

“Where are they?” The man said quietly. “Where did your team take them?”

_They?_

This man was no interrogator, but _now_ he was worth considering.

Heero lifted his aching head slowly, glaring through his bangs at the officer who sat before him. To say the man was built like an aging bear would be an incredibly accurate description; white hair, small, beady eyes, wide nose and thin lips sat atop a thick body that –despite his age- lent the impression of an immovable boulder. He was wearing a Preventers uniform, but it looked fresh and new; creases where it had been folded for a long time was still evident in places.

Heero flicked a glance at the medals pinned with careful precision to his chest; amongst them was the Commander’s sigil.

The new Commander gave Heero a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Noticed them, hm?” He rumbled. “So you know what you are dealing with here.”

Heero said nothing.

The officer narrowed his eyes coldly. “You were found unconscious at the Vice Foreign Minister’s home, beaten and bloodied as you are now, with Ms Darlian gone and _plenty_ of signs of a struggle. You have no record that we can find, and we have a wide network of sources to find that kind of information out,” he ranted in one long string. “You’re a ghost, but you’ve had training. That means you’re a mercenary. What happened? Did you fall out with your team? Did they leave you behind to take the fall?” He leaned forward, the chair he sat on creaked.

Heero glared at the officer, feeling the precautions he had taken with Commander Une backfire in his face. The Lady, and Relena, had helped the Gundam pilots disappear in the eyes of the public soon after the Barton Incident. When people thought back to that time, they remembered the Gundams. Their pilots were a mystery and the Preventers helped keep it that way. The others had settled into their new lives, but Heero had stayed off the grid. He had spent the majority of his life with very little and was content to stay that way. Trying to lead an ordinary life made him uncomfortable and exposed. He had no records because the Lady had ensured it; any missions she sent him to were highly confidential, unknown to even the highest ranked officers. It’s what he needed, at least for now.

And now someone else that the new Commander hadn’t mentioned yet was missing. They had surely discovered the Lady’s body and the disturbance at Relena’s home, and that had led them to the unconscious Heero. An eager officer like the new Commander wanted to prove himself, and having a suspect in immediate custody would look _so_ good to the higher ups. Whether or not Heero was involved in Relena’s kidnapping wouldn’t bear to factor into the new Commander’s narrow focus. He wanted this case shut the moment he stepped in. Wouldn’t that be nice on the résumé?

Heero continued to glare at the Commander. It was a human trait to fill any silence, especially when desperate or in a hurry, and Heero knew how to take advantage of it. Say little or nothing, ask few questions, let them lead. Give every impression that you already knew what they were telling you, and maybe you would hear something you didn’t. This man hadn’t learned that, although he should have.

“We found the cameras,” he snarled. “You’ve been watching them for months, but only the Vice Foreign Minister had cameras. Ha! Even then, you didn’t get rid of them. Left in a bag on the living room table, I was told. Not very efficient, were you?”

As far as the world was concerned, Heero Yuy was invisible, and he would remain so as long as the Commander saw fit. Until he got the confession he was after, no one would know Heero was here. He would have no rights, no privileges; he would be stuck here while Ansel got further and further away.

His lips curled upwards at the corners, and he began to tug against his handcuffs –his wrist stinging as the metal cut into his fresh wound as he pulled away with that arm, keeping the other steady and using the thin cast as a brace, his arm screaming at the pressure, but he could almost feel the metal begin to give way to that strength he could tap into. He tensed his muscles to spring up-

The door slammed open once more, and Sally Po, trailed by Wufei, strode into the room. Sally saluted sharply to the Commander’s back, who ignored her and continued to watch Heero. Sally had never saluted for Lady Une, who’d never required it of any of her high ranking officers.

Wufei threw a warning glance at Heero that seemed to say _“Not now”_.

“Sir,” Sally called, to draw the Commander’s attention.

Heero relaxed.

The Commander glowered at Heero for several long seconds, but then bolted upright and turned to Sally. He towered her. “What!” He barked.

“Sir, Mrs Darlian has confirmed this young man is the Vice Foreign Minister’s shadow guard,” Sally said in a clipped tone. Wufei looked satisfied behind her.

“The woman was almost catatonic when I left; you mean to tell me that she cleared up enough to confirm this?” The Commander said incredulously.

“Yessir,” Sally said. Her face was blank and fixed.

“It’s as we said, sir,” Wufei said in a respectful tone that was unlike him, although he wasn’t saluting like Sally was. “Lady Une left multiple hidden operations in place that have no record, but they were all approved by the ESUN President.”

“And therein lies the problem, boy,” the Commander said. Wufei’s brow twitched at the last part.

He stared at Wufei and Sally for a long time, his back turned so Heero couldn’t see his expression, but his shoulders were hunched and his fists were clenched.

“I don’t care who he is, he stays here,” the Commander growled in a low voice, truly like a bear, and stormed out, slamming the door closed behind him for the last time with a ring that caused Heero’s headache to throb worse.

Sally visibly relaxed, allowing her arms to drop back to her side, and Wufei’s expression darkened, which he turned to Heero. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” he said.

Heero’s brow furrowed. “Check your attitude, Wufei, I’m not in the mood,” he said. Sally was looking at him peculiarly, and for some reason this –coupled with Wufei’s behaviour- agitated him further. His body tensed like a coiled spring.

“Never mind my _attitude_ , Yuy,” Wufei barked. “The Commander’s dead, Relena Darlian _and_ the ESUN President are missing, and _you_ look like you’ve been through a meat grinder-“

Sally held up a hand, still looking at Heero as he started to retort. “That’s enough, both of you,” she said in an almost infuriatingly calm tone. “Heero, I’m aware your wounds have been treated, but are you in any pain?”

“Sally, we don’t have time,” Wufei said.

“We’ll have to make time,” she said, turning to her partner. “There’s a lot going on and we won’t resolve it any quicker by bickering with one another.” She turned back to Heero, raising her eyebrows.

Heero turned his gaze downward, away from hers. He forced himself to relax. “I’m fine,” he said.

“I’ve known you to take broken bones and internal bleeding in your stride, Heero, but it’s dangerous. Are you absolutely positive?” Sally said.

Heero felt his irritation creeping back, but he nodded, keeping his expression blank and pressed on before she could speak again. “The ESUN President?”

Wufei huffed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, it looks like around the same time Lady Une was taken. Both he and his granddaughter were home at the time, and they’re both missing… Mariemaia’s gone too.”

Heero blinked at Wufei, suddenly subdued. The ESUN President’s granddaughter couldn’t be older than ten. And Mariemaia…

“Yeah,” Wufei said solemnly.

The silence stretched.

* * *

 Heero leaned back against his chair, his arms now freed of the handcuffs, and he rubbed at the sores on his wrists, using the sting to wake himself up. The cut had been shallow, with the blood that had dripped already dry on his hands, and Sally had insisted on bandaging his wrists over Heero’s protests. She also returned his set of keys, but he didn’t have a gun when the team brought him in. Heero had barely given his keys the customary glance to make sure they were all there, but he noted a new one. Sally had passed them along with an all too innocent expression, and he decided to leave it be and look at them later.

In the meantime, Heero told the pair what had happened up to him losing consciousness, and they in turn alternated in filling in the gaps.

The lead investigator of the police had decided to call in to the Preventers after all, to let them know of the situation and that the Vice Foreign Minister was on her way to HQ with her bodyguard. When it became evident that she hadn’t arrived, the Preventers took immediate steps to alert Lady Une. When they couldn’t reach her, they contacted the local police for assistance, at which point they identified Lady Une amongst the dead taken from the ballroom. When the Preventer team attempted to contact the ESUN President for their next move, they discovered he –and his granddaughter- was also missing.

“Where does Mareen come into this?” Heero asked, keeping his gaze fixed on his hands.

“We had just discovered Mariemaia was missing as well when Mrs Darlian wandered into HQ,” Sally said. “I was in the hall anyway when the recruits at the front door brought her in. She recognized me…” Sally drifted into silence. The memory of Mareen Darlian, normally so elegant, stumbling into her arms, crying and panicked to the point of madness, was one Sally would awake from in the middle of the night in a cold sweat in years to come.

Wufei picked up her trail. “At first she could only tell us that Relena Darlian was in danger, and the state she was in we knew to believe her immediately, but Hazel Raneleigh, the new Commander, had already arrived by order of the Board of Directors, and he sent some newbie team down to check things out. That’s when they found you.”

Heero nodded. “So that’s when this Raneleigh decided I’d make a suitable scapegoat?”

Wufei and Sally looked at one another, and the former laughed nastily. “No, I think it was when you woke up as the team were picking you up. One of them is still in the infirmary.”

Heero’s head darted up. He looked between Wufei and Sally to see if he was joking. There was a glint of satisfaction in Wufei’s eyes, and Heero remembered that Wufei was the instructor for the new recruits. No doubt he saw it as an invaluable lesson to be beat up by a Gundam Pilot. Sally merely looked exasperated.

“I… don’t remember attacking anyone,” Heero said slowly.

Wufei shrugged. “You were pretty much out of it from what the guys said, and you fell unconscious again pretty quickly afterwards... But it didn’t do you any favours with the new Commander.”

Heero looked away again, thinking quickly. He had a vague sense of familiarity to what Wufei was saying, but the time from when Sol threw him down the stairs of Relena’s home to waking up in the Preventers interrogation room was dark.

Sally had been looking at Heero peculiarly again, a puzzled expression marring her brow. Heero fixed her with a questioning stare.

“There’s something I’m confused about,” she said, as if reaching a decision.

Heero felt his defences rising at her tone. It was a guarded tone that was always used to calm someone down before they said something that would, invariably, anger them.

“When you retrieved Miss Relena, why didn’t you bring her here like you told the investigator? Why did you take her home where she was the least safe?”

Wufei stood beside Sally, looking between her and Heero, his own expression of one who’d wondered the same thing, and was eager to hear the explanation. Although, Heero suspected, he already knew.

Heero looked down at his hands again, the thumb of his right hand rubbing at the inner part of his wrist.

He stood, “I want to see Mareen,” he said.

Sally still looked puzzled, but Wufei had read and judged Heero accurately, the look of naked disgust was evidence enough. “Soft,” he said, resigned. “Come on, then.”

* * *

 The Preventers HQ was a skyscraper, one of the tallest in the city, where training and bureaucracy took place on the above-ground floors, and what Wufei referred to as the “real work” took place on the basement level floors and below. The infirmary was a few floors above the interrogation room, all below ground.

The infirmary was a long and wide corridor, and the majority of the hospital beds were hidden by the cloth curtains on rails that surrounded each bed. Mareen Darlian shared the infirmary with three other occupants only, where they were on the far side of the room.

She was sat upright when Sally pulled back the curtain shielding Mareen from view of everyone else. The upper part of the bed had been raised, allowing her to lean back against the headrest. A drip stood beside her with a line attached to her arm pumping something undoubtedly calming into her bloodstream. Her hair was a dishevelled mess and her makeup had streaked down her face and around her watery eyes where she’d been crying, but otherwise she looked unhurt.

“It’s good to see you awake, Mrs Darlian,” Sally said, her face soft, although it was clear to anyone that Mareen hadn’t slept at all. She looked as tired as Heero felt, but there was that wide-eyed glaze of a woman who was exhausted beyond reason but too frightened to sleep.

Mareen gave a shaky smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, that Hazel gentleman is very angry,” she said.

“The new Commander, Mrs Darlian,” Sally said patiently. “Did he upset you?”

“No, but I think I rather upset him, though,” she said. “You told him I’d spoken with you?”

“Yes, Mrs Darlian, I’m sorry but I had to improvise quickly, I knew you’d be able to keep up.”

Heero stepped forward to be in Mareen’s view. The older woman turned to him immediately, staring at him slightly wide-eyed. Heero waited for her to speak, but she didn’t. Silence sunk into the small space for several long moments, heavy with nervous anticipation.

An officer further down the infirmary broke the silence with a pained groan as he rolled over.

Mareen inhaled shakily, as though for that moment she hadn’t been breathing properly. “Sally, would you give Mr Yuy and I a few minutes, please?” She asked, turning to the other woman.

“Of course,” Sally said and, as she turned away, murmured to Heero. “Don’t stress her too much; she’s in a fragile state.”

Heero gave a slight nod and Sally left, closing the curtain behind her. The space felt enclosed, too enclosed for Heero’s liking -who preferred being able to see any and all points of entry within sight- but Mareen relaxed visibly, slumping against her pillow.

There was a hard-backed plastic chair at the end of the bed and sitting on it placed Heero slightly lower than Mareen. It felt appropriate. Neither spoke for several minutes as Mareen took in Heero’s appearance, bruised, bloodied and battered as he was.

The thrum of the air conditioner doing its job in the background clinked every so often as it settled. Heero waited. His spine straight and his hands clenched into loose fits at his lap.

Finally Mareen’s eyebrows arched upward, wrinkles on her forehead deepening.

“You saw them?” She asked quietly.

He knew immediately that ‘them’ must be Sol and Luna. He nodded once.

“They did that to you?”

“And took my Relena?”

She gave a single dry sob, and her eyes filled with yet more tears. “My poor boy,” she murmured, her voice wavering.

A lump formed in Heero’s throat, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and he hung his head, letting his bangs fall over his face. His heart thumped heavy and slow in his chest; he felt shame, and guilt.

“I lost her,” he muttered, his voice monotone. He was slipping back; hiding his thoughts and emotions on the outside, feeling them on the inside in the privacy of his head. He’d made progress in the past few years too.

“I know,” Mareen said, and those two words would have defeated him.

“She gave herself up for me,” he said.

“I know,” she repeated. “Those… _people_ , had me as well. It seems she bought both our lives.”

Heero raised his head and looked her squarely in the eyes. A solitary tear had fallen and was running down the older woman’s cheek.

“Did they hurt you?” He asked.

Mareen shook her head slowly. “No, all things considering, they were polite. They just wanted to know where Relena was,” she said. “But the blood on their swords was wet. I couldn’t take my eyes off them.”

She started shuddering, her hands clenching and loosening several times. “And they wouldn’t let me move,” she said, her voice trembling. “I was crouched in that corner for hours. Any time I moved t-that _woman_ would touch the blade to me, t-to my neck, from wherever she was standing. She moved so fast.” She touched her neck absentmindedly. There was no mark Heero could see, except for the mental one.

Heero gave her a moment to collect herself once more. Minutes passed.

“The man pestered me with questions, sometimes random questions about my day or what I’d had to eat, other times so direct he almost tricked me, once or twice,” she said. “I didn’t let him though. Eventually he got frustrated and searched the house.”

“You had Relena’s address written down?” Heero asked.

“Yes, in a diary. I know it’s old fashioned, but so am I,” she added guiltily. She let out a little chuckle, and a dry sob.

“What happened when he found it?”

“They seemed to be talking to one another for a long time. I couldn’t hear them, but they just stared at one another through the helmets, nodding. They… seemed to argue.”

Heero sat forward slightly, his elbows on his knees. “Could you tell about what?”

She nodded. “Ye-s, sort of,” she said slowly. “He wanted to leave his sword behind, but she didn’t want him to. He’d put it down and then the woman would pick it up and try to put it back in his hands. He must have said something to convince her though, because he gave it to her and she put it in her own scabbard.”

Heero nodded, and he looked away. It made sense. He knew now he had only managed to win against the pair of them last time because the corridor they’d fought on was narrow, there was no room to swing a blade properly, and less so in Relena’s home.

_Why did you take her home where she was the least safe?_

His fists clenched on his lap.

He realized Mareen was looking at him, and that the silence had stretched.

“I’m going to get her back,” he said, looking up.

She nodded and bit at her bottom lip. She looked away as she appeared to gather herself, blinking rapidly to stop more tears. “I believe you can,” she said. “If anyone can, you will.”

Heero said nothing.

“Do you know where to go from here?” She asked, the hope in her tone bare. That was probably the most important question, the one that meant the most and would decide her faith in him.

“I have an idea,” he said, deciding on the truth.

“Are you confident in it?”

“Yes,” he said, deciding on a lie.

Mareen released a sigh that looked like she had been holding onto all night. She raised her hands out and beckoned him. He stood and placed his hands in hers. She held them tenderly.

“Then go with my blessing, whatever that means to you,” she said, and managed a smile that did finally reach her eyes.

“A lot, I promise,” he said, although he felt he didn’t deserve it.

The curtain swished closed without another word passed between the two.

Mareen slept.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-write on an old project of mine posted on fanfiction.net back in 2012. Since then the idea of the story has changed, as well as some names and character motivations are different, I felt it warranted a rewrite.
> 
> As I have no one to proof-read my work, and though they say you can't proof-read your own work, I have attempted to do my best with it. As such if you notice any glaring errors, please forgive them. x) Any critique would be greatly appreciated. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and for any comments or kudos you leave. o/


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